


Upon a Lifetime of Encounters

by Infiniteskye



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akakuro DomesticAU!, Akashi runs away from home, Also about all of the GOM and their lingering attachments to their old teams, M/M, a story about growing up, about bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2015-07-03
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infiniteskye/pseuds/Infiniteskye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone once told him, that as long as there was basketball, they would be connected. Yet, in a world of fleeting forevers, even basketball has become a thing of the past. Now an ordinary college student, Kuroko Tetsuya wanders as an anachronism in an ordinary life when one-by-one, he meets the GOM again, all pursuing paths worlds away from him.<br/>Even in a world without basketball, is it possible for them to keep their bonds?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Impermanence of Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shibuya is the world’s busiest crosswalk. It is also the best place to pass others by. How many people do you pass per day when you walk across, only to either never see them or pass them again? This never-ending fate of relationships, being broken the second they are made.
> 
> Akashi Seijuurou relishes this.
> 
> Kuroko Tetsuya does not.

**i. The Impermanence of Things**

**_Mono no aware_** (物の哀れ). To properly explain the phrase would be difficult. It would take days and still leave many unable to twist their tongues in just the right way to pronounce that one sound that would reveal all.

The basic definition would be an awareness for the "impermanence" of things. Nothing lasts forever. Things break and people die. It is an understanding of this that will cause a transient sadness for their passing.

Kuroko Tetsuya read nothing but "mono no aware". Or at least, his favorite works all contained that in some form. From _Kokoro_ by Natsume Soseki all the way to newer works such as _Slow Height's no Kamisama,_ he had always peered into that world of impermanence, of fleeting forevers.

But the only reason this concept could garner such attention, enough that it was deemed a cultural tradition, is because of its evident presence in a near universal reality. This was life. Life was understanding that nothing lasted forever.

It was _his_ life.

A somber tone generally accompanied the concept. Yet it was still most often used to heighten one's appreciation of beauty. Beauty is fleeting after all and only when one understands how fleeting everything is, can everything look beautiful. The sky, the trees, the blades of grass under a dying sun. It was all towards a happier end.

 _Was it the same for him?_ Kuroko wondered, back lying on the tatami in his living room, glancing up at the sky. _Was he appreciating the beauty here right now?_

The inside of his heart clenched.

Kuroko Tetsuya eventually closed his eyes, peeling them away from the sky as the next time they opened, they settled back into white walls of his apartment.

It was small and compact with only one living room, a bedroom that could only fit futons, and an incredibly cramped kitchen and washroom space.

Such was the limits of a bachelor's life and ironically, he was better off than most. It was almost two times bigger than the average one-person apartment because it was never supposed to hold only one.

He had the liberty of having a roommate, one of those dearly trustworthy people to whom you would entrust half the cleaning and cooking to for the month.

Unfortunately, their months together had expired.

Sitting on the tatami, he turned his head to the other half of his living room, empty in comparison to the desk and bookshelf Kuroko had crammed into _his_ side of the space.

It had been three days since his roommate moved out, intent on returning to his old city to look for work and provide for his family.

It was a valid reason, one every graduate had to toil with as part of the repetitive cycle fueled by society.

In the midst of the empty room, Kuroko stared at the world beyond the sliding door to the balcony, revealing an infinite sky of blue.

"It's a nice day today." He said, aware that he was to now enjoy these alone.

…Or not. Considering how he now had to pay twice the amount of rent in two weeks, he had to find a new roommate soon.

**[=]**

The life of a third-year university student, was not very rosy. Carrying a transparent umbrella, Kuroko left the market as rain pattered down on his plastic shield, the edge of his shoes soaking in the rain beneath.

Between fending for himself at home and trying to maintain good grades in his classes, Kuroko had multiple part-time jobs as well.

His grandmother had fallen ill, leaving his parents worried about her and the bills. He thought he as his age, should not be a burden and began working to pay for his own living expenses, keeping what was left for his grandmother.

It was not as ambitious as a goal as one would think, because Kuroko technically did not have a better cause to invest in. Although he was doing relatively well in his studies, able to neatly housekeep, and a great part-timer that earned every one of his managers' favors, his priorities in life had diminished down to graduating, to find a stable job, and to take care of his family. There was nothing surfacing ambitious. Instead, his dreams were drowned in trivialities— things that applied to every other student in the country. He hadn't felt that same tinge of passion as the past—when there was basketball.

Middle School.

High School.

Basketball was his life for all those years and the only thing he had put so much effort in that admittedly, he neglected himself in other areas.

His studies were one of them. Since basketball took a toll on his body, he constantly fell asleep in class and used the rest of his time not spent at practice quite sparingly, managing to pass everything with average but not stellar grades.

He was the definition of ordinary and would've continued to be, ambling aimlessly if it had not been for basketball.

Yet, as a result of this passion spent on something he wasn't meant to ever take as a career, he had left nothing for his current self, urged by society to become one of _them._

He didn't mind, or felt any reason to rush himself but the absence of something to fully put his heart into did leave him a bit bitter. Because of his compromised grades, his only option was to go to a university that was, although above average, had no basketball team, forcing him to spend his days at the streets courts, practicing with his roommate.

Although he too was gone.

Basketball was still fun regardless, but something was evidently amiss. Despite still having basketball, he realized he was alone.

He was made to become aware that what he preached during high school, that teams and friendships would always stay connected as long as there was basketball, was but a ruse.

His seniors from Seirin were scattered all over, many the same as him, busy with life and studies. Even the Generation of Miracles, once heralded all over the country as the future basketball prodigies of Japan had scattered in interest, with only Aomine Daiki and Kagami Taiga actually pursuing the sport professionally, landing a deal with the bj-league and the NBA respectively. In contrast, Kise Ryouta stuck to becoming a full-time model and actor while Midorima Shintarou quite surprisingly, ended up going to America for medical school. Even Murasakibara, with a physique made for basketball, decided to dedicate himself to the culinary arts, travelling abroad to France. It was only Akashi Seijuurou who Kuroko had no information on at all.

In fact, since he first entered university, he had stopped hearing about any of the Generation of Miracles. Other than Aomine and Kise making the news every month, the rest of their lives were shrouded in mystery, without any contact or influence in Kuroko's current life.

He kept on walking, away from the crowded streets with the endless stores, a bag of groceries in hand as he headed for the riverbed, crossing the bridge to the residential area.

It was…something that could not be helped. Nothing lasts forever. Even bonds that once upon a time, were believed to never be broken. A heaviness weighed on his heart.

Kuroko wondered if this was the side effect of staying with himself for too long. He was never a very positive person after all. He merely took, _absorbed_ the nourishment brought by the light, which grew his shadow enough for it to stand tall. Yet he was alone, and he only became increasingly aware of his own dissatisfaction, his loss. Of course, it wasn't as though he was trying to glorify his youth, they came with bordering unhealthy doses of broken friendships and legs but at the end of the day everything was well.

However, he could not recreate that youth. He was a shadow after all. Without a light, he could not thrive like in those sun-filled days. He wondered if he could ever again. Those days were far too perfect, and they had passed forever. Ah, this was "mono no aware".

The wind suddenly whipped up on the bridge, cutting through the flat plain as Kuroko's umbrella was blown backwards, flinging out of his hands and into the head of the pedestrian he passed.

The tip of the umbrella nicked him right in the neck as the man lurched forward, dark grey jacket clinging to his skin as his hair mingled with the rain, resembling a silky mop.

Ah. That was "mono" be aware. (A/N: "mono" means "things")

"Oh I'm very sorry," Kuroko apologized as he quickly rushed over to retrieve the umbrella, noticing that the man stood rather solemnly, back straight yet at the same time, empty.

The man took hold of the umbrella and turned. "It's not a problem," he said.

But it was.

When the man turned around in his hoodie, Kuroko realized, that the man was no ordinary person.

 _Ah_ He thought, staring straight into his sharp eyes.

He hadn't seen him in years.

"…Akashi-kun?" Kuroko carefully identified, as though he could hardly believe himself. Aside from that full monologue of somber contemplation, he was logically, probably the last person Kuroko would chance upon.

The scarlet-haired man merely blinked in recognition. "…Kuroko. It's been a while." He began, smoothly using his last name, something Kuroko hadn't heard Akashi call him in a long time as he closed the umbrella and handed it back to Kuroko, demeanor calm as usual.

Yet, Kuroko had already stopped listening as he accepted the object wordlessly, taking a step forward and closing the distance between them before reopening the umbrella over the taller man's head.

"You're soaked," he said as Akashi's eyes widened a few micrometers, his indiscernible gaze falling against Kuroko's blank yet kind eyes.

"…Thank you." He uttered.

**[=]**

It had been a week since Kuroko had company in his house.

Sitting on the cushion Kuroko brought out, Akashi Seijuurou calmly sipped at the tea Kuroko had carefully prepared, wearing a white long-sleeve shirt and blue jeans that had been provided by his host while his rain-soaked ones were tumbling in the wash. He adjusted his posture on the cushion with a slightly dissatisfied expression. Although their height difference was still not much, their different body masses made the clothes tighter on him than what he would normally prefer.

"Tetsuya, are you sure you are getting enough nutrition? Your waist is slightly thinner than what is standard for your height." Akashi stated, the indifferent reprimand sending waves of nostalgia through him as Kuroko ever so slightly, smiled.

"…I eat just fine." Kuroko retorted blankly, already too jaded from the throes of time to be so compliant.

Akashi stared at him. "Surely you're capable of adjusting your diet." He urged as Kuroko realized that this would most likely drag on till forever.

"No thank you," Kuroko said as Akashi's eyes drastically narrowed and a few moves later the distinct sound of chopping emanated from Kuroko's kitchen.

Akashi Seijuurou had usurped command of the kitchen with his rapid-fire retorts and was cooking up a feast that somewhat vexed Kuroko.

"Then I will be making it, and you will have to eat it—unless of course you are fine with wasting food?" Akashi had said, voice returning to the same level of self-efficacy that had him admired by all.

In a sense, Kuroko considered this more Akashi-like response a personal victory as he couldn't comprehend what Akashi was doing out there in the rain and why his voice, that could skin one like a knife, had grown so soft and lifeless for a moment.

He didn't dare ask however, most likely out of consideration but also out of fear. He realized he didn't want to make Akashi cautious of him and risk the chances of yet another meaningless goodbye. In fact, because it was Akashi, it gave him all the more reason to not pry.

He wondered if Akashi knew, how shocked they were when the year Rakuzan lost the Winter Cup, Akashi had quit basketball. He transferred schools and none of them saw him since.

Kuroko suspected that Midorima still attempted to keep contact with Akashi, although he wasn't aware of how successful he was, or any of them could be at that point. Akashi was unlike them from the start, he carried far more expectations on his back than anyone else and had handled all of it so perfectly. Or so, that was what they had believed.

Kuroko blinked as food was set upon the low table. With diced carrots mixed with _mabo doufu_ , fried green bean, and mackerel enveloping the air with its enticing aroma, Kuroko finally resigned and helped set the bowls and chopsticks, eventually finding himself across from Akashi who wore a rather peaceful expression on his wan face.

"Ah, in your case, I suggest you eat more green beans."

"…" Kuroko momentarily stared. He wasn't particularly fond of green beans. "…Ittadakimasu," he said as Akashi released a sound that could be interpreted as either a smirk or exasperation, noticing his true intentions.

"Your ability to selectively listen to reason is almost hypocritical. That part hasn't changed very much has it Kuroko?" referring to his past scrutiny towards Akashi's Teiko regime. He wasn't necessarily wrong, and maybe that was the best thing to do but either way, Kuroko didn't agreed—he wouldn't.

Kuroko glanced up from his meal. "Is that so? Um, I consider myself a logical person. However, I feel that choosing the most self-efficient method may not always be the best."

"And that is because?"

"If I wanted to be the most 'logical', I would've left Akashi-kun out in the rain and be rid of having to eat green beans," Kuroko replied blatantly as he picked at the half-sunken remains of the distasteful vegetable before chewing at it slowly.

Ever so slightly, Akashi smiled. "Perhaps that may have been the better choice."

Kuroko paused. It was unlike Akashi to retort so aimlessly. "…Akashi-kun, would you like to be thrown back out into the rain? In fact, why were you out in the rain in the first place?"

Akashi promptly leaned back, mixing some tofu with his rice. "So you finally managed to say it?"

Kuroko froze. "Eh?"

The red-head placed his chopsticks on the table. "It's because your actions were strange. Normally, anyone would ask why first yet, you prepared a bath for me, a change of clothes, and even your hospitality without question, without even an attempt."

Suddenly, Kuroko wavered. The atmosphere grew hostile as Akashi slowly regained that air which called for absolute subjugation, irises turning to knives, just like before—before he had quit.

"Kuroko, are you holding back against me?"

_Are you, on baseless assumptions, showing pity?_

Kuroko stood his ground. He was surprised that Akashi had reverted back to his old self, and wondered if there were still two of him around but regardless, he had to give a satisfactory reply.

"…No, I apologize if it seemed that way but that was not my intention. I just didn't want Akashi-kun to leave so quickly." Kuroko confessed, deciding that there was no reason to hide it any longer.

Yet, his words were already being interpreted and pieced together by the acute man. "…I see. For you to admit that is rather rare Kuroko. It seems that you too haven't been in contact with the rest of _them_."

"Akashi-kun as well?" Kuroko asked.

"Yes, although you should know that it's much more probable for me considering that I had left in second year."

_And quit basketball as well._

Kuroko held his breath. "…why did you quit? Basketball I mean."

It was the question that had always been buried in the crannies of his mind, nagging at him constantly to find out the truth, to find out if, what he did at the time, was not the best thing, or even the relatively helpful thing for Akashi.

The red-head paused, his eyes gleaming as though he could pre-empt Kuroko's thoughts. "Even if I answered that, nothing would change. I left back then and met you here today. That is simply the current state of things," he said, asking him to face forward than to start pointless dribbles of the past.

"Is that so? But despite that, everything for you happens for a reason doesn't it?" Kuroko returned, pressing him.

Akashi nodded. "It does. That's why, have you considered if me being in this room with you today, also is for a certain reason?"

Kuroko stared at him, realization dawning in his flat eyes. "What did you come here for today?"

"This wasn't originally intended for you but, Kuroko the flier outside says you are looking for a new roommate. I'd like to live here for about two months." Akashi said, the irrelevancy catching Kuroko off guard.

"Eh?" He blurted, taking a few moments to collect himself. "But, don't you already have a home? Why would you want to stay here?"

"Ah, I've decided that place no longer has any use to me. I have already learnt everything from my parental unit. His guidance is unnecessary and a burden at best." Akashi explained almost cryptically.

Kuroko attempted to process this. Parental unit? Why did the topic slightly shift to that?

…Parental unit?

Ah.

"…Akashi-kun are you having a row with your father right now?"

Akashi blankly stared at his lunch. "No. I've simply decided to cut all ties with him."

Kuroko blinked. "…That is what is called a family feud Akashi-kun."

Akashi smirked, as though enjoying the term. "Is that so? Either way, I have no intentions of returning for a while so I do hope you'll consider my offer." Akashi said, already pushing the issue aside while Kuroko could smell the daddy issues coming a mile away.

Still, he couldn't refuse.

It was just a bit nostalgic, being together with someone he knew.

* * *

ch 2 will be up tmr

*PS. If you enjoyed the concept of "mono no aware", please read the short story "Mono no Aware" by Kevin Liu. If you google it you will see it right away!

Also: for those who read the original version, this has been edited and rewritten

 


	2. Kings, Horses, and Men

 

Unsurprisingly, Akashi Seijuurou made his move rather quickly. By the end of the week, a redwood study desk appeared on the other side of the living room, its elaborate design overtly emphasized by the numerous shelves above and the three-drawer set below.

In a matter of fifteen minutes, it was already perfectly organized with books, some in languages Kuroko couldn't quite decipher.

After scanning the orderly cabinet of strategy games, from expensive-looking Shogi boards to glass Chess sets, the humble undergrad was slowly beginning to regret his decision. He squinted. Was that a calligraphy set? Also, why was there something as suspicious of a kimono fully equipped with a hakama behind it?

It seemed that the true definition of "being rich" had escaped him.

"Kuroko, for the most part I'm done moving my things to the living room." Akashi said as he signaled the movers to head back, briefly thanking them for their work. "Could you show me your bedroom, so I can lay my futon there?"

"Eh? You're fine with a futon?" Kuroko blurted.

"Yes. Did your biases regarding my wealth made you assume I was spoiled enough to not be?"

Kuroko eyed the various high-class items he could most likely never afford in his lifetime blankly and slowly, very reluctantly, shook his head. "No, not at all."

Akashi smirked. "Those are just for clearing my mind. Being organized means using the most effective methods to become the most productive. As such using breaks to their full potential is also necessary."

Kuroko released a small sigh. "As expected of Akashi-kun." He said before he turned for the other room, clicking open its doors. "Well then I won't treat you any different from anyone else so please be prepared."

Akashi raised a brow. "You've never treated me any different in the first place Kuroko. I don't see why that would change," he stated as he headed in, revealing a room that could just manage to fit two futons.

The former Bocchan stared.

Kuroko peered at his expression, wondering if the room itself may have been only slightly larger than Akashi's bed.

Yet, a smile hung at his lips instead. "It's cramped beyond my expectations." Akashi bluntly stated. "Your capacity to live in such a space astounds me."

Kuroko immediately blinked. This somehow felt strangely familiar. "Um, Akashi-kun would you like to be evicted on the first day?"

"Ah, pardon me." Akashi smiled, though not at all sorry. "Although it is small, I never said it was a bad thing."

"You implied it."

Akashi sucked in a breath. "If, one were to apply the standards of the common man." He refuted. "In contrast, I find living here even more intriguing. Besides, laying out a futon like this, somewhat reminds me of the layout at our training camps."

Kuroko took this in, a bit surprised. He didn't recall Akashi usually taking such a stance. Akashi Seijuurou had changed—no, to be precise he came back.

Did he finally resolve his issues with what Midorima proclaimed to be from something like his metaphysical incarnate?

The thought somehow made Kuroko feel a bit empty. Akashi had changed from that cold and hostile winner's mentality Kuroko always disagreed with without any of them knowing. He wondered how much the others had changed in the time since their graduation.

"Kuroko, I'll be going to get my futon now." Akashi informed, walking past him.

Kuroko was brought back from his reverie. "Okay."

[=]

The apartment was setup like so. The two would share a bedroom that was to be used for sleeping, their futons placed thirty centimetres apart. Luckily, neither of them were very rowdy in their sleep and hardly moved at all. The bathroom was shared and the living room was divided into two workspaces, books spilling off both shelves.

In the morning, Kuroko would either leave for work or for class while Akashi at least, appeared to stay home for the duration of the day, typing away at his laptop while making various business calls. Apparently after graduating early, instead of studying for a Masters or succeeding his father's company, he wanted to create his own company, something he seemed to have full confidence in accomplishing.

Kuroko didn't know much about it beyond that—and the fact that it was some sort of International trading business targeting American businessmen.

However, he was glad Akashi seemed well, though that may have been a given from the start, for Akashi always planned every move carefully. In fact, his temperament was so steady it was as though the Akashi he met in the rain was but a figment of an overly-active imagination.

He took this in stride, glad that Akashi was able to resolve everything nicely—if only that was truly the case.

Less than a week after Akashi had moved in, on a day where Kuroko finally had a day-off from work and only afternoon classes attend, he saw…that.

More technically, it was a sleek black Benz parked suspiciously in front of his apartment complex that caught his attention one spring morning and how he was sure that the sharply-dressed man who he assumed was the owner, was clearly glancing at his window. He was trying hard not to focus on the glass, which may have been why he didn't catch Kuroko inching close to get a better look.

Yet, before he could make any sort of assumption, he heard a rather amused voice.

"Ah, so he's finally managed to track this place down." Akashi Seijuurou said, joining him near the window.

"Track down?" Kuroko repeated, although if he had to follow the plotlines regarding most upper-class socialites in the books he read, he had more than an idea of what was to come.

"My father. He has most likely decided to send them after me. I do not have a sibling and he is a widower. It is hard for him to produce a successor this late in the game." He continued dispassionately.

"Eh widower?" Kuroko blinked. Didn't that mean that Akashi didn't have a Mother?

"Hm? Yes my mother died when I was young, although only two years before I entered middle school to be precise." Akashi said, as though reciting fact.

"..Hah I see. I'm sorry for your loss." Kuroko eventually said, a bit disappointed that he did not even know such basic information about him. Even during Middle School, their conversations were either basketball-related or book-based. They were not particularly close.

Akashi lifted a brow, as though finding his words almost abnormal when he eventually smiled. "Ah, right." He offered in reply. "In any case, they won't pose to be a problem. I will clear them up soon. In the meantime, could I task you with leaving the premise for now? See if you can get out the front door without difficulties." Akashi asked.

"…Am I a test subject?"

"No, I'm asking for a volunteer. I need to ascertain what my father's intentions are." He said, honest but never to a fault.

"And why do you suppose I will do this?" Kuroko questioned and watched the red-head smile.

"Because you are Kuroko Tetsuya. The fact that you'll cooperate is something I'm willing to bet on." Akashi said.

Kuroko widened his eyes, a bit surprised. "Akashi-kun, is it wise to put such blind faith in others?"

"Not at all. However because it is you I'm willing to make an exception." Akashi returned swiftly.

"…This is making me hard to refuse."

"That was part of the plan."

"…"

Like so Kuroko Tetsuya ended up leaving his apartment, walking out slowly as he reached the bare stairwell and began descending in a spiral, the old metal clanking against his feet.

To be honest, he didn't particularly mind the task, he doubted Akashi would place him in danger in the first place—or so he hoped. He only felt a smidgeon of impulse to affirm his own existence, as something Akashi couldn't quite treat so dispassionately. He wondered why when he spoke about his own parents, there was such an unfeeling tone?

Putting that aside, Kuroko carefully looked to the right of the entrance and noticed the men were gone. Quickening his steps, he finally reached the exterior of the gate and saw that the car had left as well. He blinked, wondering exactly what they came for before he immediately froze.

He looked up at his window. No one seemed to be there. Swiftly and silently, he scaled the stairs towards his suite and noticed the door was locked.

Could there have possibly been more than one of them?

He hastily turned the doorknob. The door was shut with a chain lock. He could only force the door open a smidgeon, enough to see a sturdy man in his late 40s face Akashi rather rigidly.

"Bocchan, please return." A low voice said in near monotone.

"…So you came? You are only the driver. The fact that my father would send you is rather surprising."

"The others will be coming soon, but I came here in secret to speak to you first." The driver said, the same man who drove Akashi to and from school since his elementary years.

The former heir quirked a brow, intrigued by this development. "Oh? So you came here of your own volition. What a change from before Okazaki." He said, playing along.

The driver did not even avert his eyes. "Is that so? I do not feel that I have changed."

Akashi smiled.

"I'm saying this for your own good as well Bocchan. If you don't come back soon the Master won't be so willing to forgive you." Okazaki continued.

"I'm surprised to hear you assert I'm unable to survive on my own."

"No, I'm not asserting that. I'm only stating that even if you were he will send the world after you if need be. That is the kind of power he has. You will have no place to run."

It was almost as though Akashi had snorted. A bemused smile danced on his lips. "From the beginning I never had anywhere to run, so who said I was going to try such a worthless tactic again?"

Okazaki's expression stayed akin to a porcelain doll. Unlike Kuroko, who had a certain spirit behind his flat eyes, Okazaki's were soulless and empty. "Okazaki, how much of a bonus did my father offer you?" He suddenly asked, looking him right in the eye.

"…I do not know what you are referring to." He replied.

The movements of the doll hardly surprised him. "You do, because I'm only acting accordingly to you. Just as you've known me since young, I have also known you. I won't forget how you were bribed by a middle-schooler just so you would pick me up at the station." Akashi began, smiling as he strode towards the man. "And in the same vein, you being bribed is hardly a breadth's away from the truth." He concluded, eventually reaching him to place a hand into his breast pocket.

He took out a small recording device. "As I thought, you really do wear clothes that are a size too small for you." He remarked. "There was a slight bulge there." He said, dangling the recorder across his fingers.

Okazaki immediately swiped the recorder away.

Akashi merely smiled. "It seems senility is natural with age. But that's alright. You're forgiven for I've never had any expectations for you at all."

"…" Something burned within the man's dead eyes.

"It's a shame that my father thought our relationship was good."

Okazaki's gaze stayed firm, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. Akashi seemed to know. "Luckily, I am generous enough to tell you something—that I will survive on my own." Akashi turned to the recorder. "I've already told you this, but it seems you won't believe me. I'm planning on leaving the house—along with all its worthless traditions."

"…Bocchan are you serious?" Okazaki said, as though finally aware of the large leap Akashi was taking.

"Are you saying I can't do it?"

"Yes" He replied bluntly.

Akashi only smiled. "It's a shame you always had the most inaccurate predictions."

There was a slight shift in the man's expression. "I don't know what you mean. But either way, I can't let you go."

Akashi looked up. "Is…that so?" His eyes suddenly narrowed into daggers.

"BAM!" The front door swung shut, throwing the two off as their eyes darted for the door.

The bloodlust left Akashi's eyes.

It was Kuroko Tetsuya as he slowly pushed the door open, forcibly pressing on it to produce a squeak from the hinges as he uttered, "Um, this is my home. Please open the door or I'll have to call the landlord."

"…Were you listening?" The driver asked.

His gaze was met with the vacillate expression of another.

"You were too loud for me to not to." Kuroko returned as Akashi walked up to the door and undid the lock.

"…Thank you," Kuroko said. "Now then Okazaki-san was it? It seems you have overstayed your welcome, please leave for today."

The driver seemed hesitant but understood Kuroko's intentions. "Please excuse me," he said flatly and left the room, unable to take the menacing atmosphere with him.

Standing at the foot of the door, still peeking through beyond the chain lock, Kuroko could only wonder if he had any place in this to butt in, to open the door to his own room.

He didn't know exactly how things were in that household of his, but Akashi's words, his driver's responses seemed to indicate a life in a suffocating environment, with no one to trust and no freedom of his own. It was natural for him to want to separate but…Akashi Seijuurou's eyes were so cold, just like in the past.

The room was heavy. Kuroko found it far harder to offer any words for Akashi. That was not on his mind after all. He could think, while stuck outside the door, about how he could cut in—for rather than worrying over Akashi, he was worried about the driver.

Akashi did not seem pleased. His eyes were so cold, just like the past. That was usually not a good sign.

"Akashi-kun."

The red-head responded from the mention of his name. It was not the manner Kuroko had hoped. He upturned his head, scarlet red eyes burning into Kuroko. "What do you think of all this?" Akashi Seijuurou asked— intention indiscernible.

"Eh?" Kuroko was caught off guard but nevertheless thought hard about his reply. What did he think? About what? He didn't know what went on in Akashi's family, but Akashi's words, his driver's responses, seemed to indicate a life in a suffocating environment, with no one to trust and no freedom of his own. It was natural for him to want to separate but…even so, Kuroko was unable to produce anything without sounding pretentious. There were far too many things he had never even imagined to occur with Akashi. It made his realize how little he knew.

"…For now, I don't know what to say. I feel that I don't have enough information." He decided, an honest answer better than any. He stared expectantly at Akashi.

Akashi paused, pursing his lips. "…I see. That's perfectly fine, in fact, better this way," he said dismissively.

Kuroko widened his eyes.

The tactician knelt down to rearrange the mats for the small tea table.

Kuroko stared at his back, cold and unwavering. He could not say a word, for he had never heard a reply.

Akashi had a lot of plans and Kuroko was not a part of them.

…It unexpectedly hurt a lot more than he gave credit.

A piece of his heart clenched.

 


	3. A Drop into Neverland

Before Kuroko could react, a giant mouth went for his head, covering his hair with horse drool as a white steed began munching on it, reverting the amassed creature into its morning position.

Well, either that or it was about to go into Super Seiyan mode in retaliation.

Kuroko slowly blinked in time with the discomfort. “Um, Akashi-kun, what is this?” He asked, turning to the man in full riding gear, pulling his hand along his riding crop to smooth it out.

“This is Yukimaru, my horse.” Akashi poignantly stated, giving the horse a proud pat as it turned its head, expression suddenly extremely delicate, and nuzzled Akashi on the cheek. “He’s a purebred and of very high-class quality.”

Kuroko scanned the horse up and down. Upon making eye contact, the steed immediately grew threatening, his personality as bipolar as his master’s—or maybe he just really disliked Kuroko.

Kuroko didn’t understand where he went wrong. He was quite well-liked by the others in the…field of horses Kuroko found himself in.

Well, that just had to be left another mystery in his collections of things gone weird with Akashi, the former being how chancing upon Akashi at the convenience store led him to be whisked away by public transit (that _he_ had to buy tickets for) to the stables.

Still, he supposed this horse was, if not giving a terrible representation of how everyhorsie behaved to Kuroko, still somewhat more majestic than the others—majestically eating away at his hair of course.

He wondered if telling it that it was merely dead protein would get it to stop.

“He doesn’t do this often. I suppose it’s because he thinks the color of your hair resembles water.” Says Akashi, not even berating the thing he was obviously doting on. The serene look on his face as he fitted the saddle onto Yukimaru was almost disturbing. Kuroko realized that for the first time in the years he knew Akashi, he was going to be useless.

“You should give horseback riding a try as well.” Akashi offered, nodding a head at the nearest attendant who of course, blushed upon eye contact.

Kuroko stared at the thing. “No thanks, if all of them were like this I would go bald.”

Akashi shrugged, “it’s your loss.” He said, almost irritatingly.

Kuroko sighed, consoling himself by thinking that this was a blessing. Thankfully, Akashi seemed content, especially after the incident a few days prior. In fact, he seemed so calm that things no longer added up.

“That reminds me, why are you able to go outside freely Akashi-kun? I thought bodyguards would be coming to the house and tailing you?” Kuroko asked, just as Akashi started scaling up the saddle.

“Ah, I took care of them.” He briskly answered, straddling the horse with perfect posture.

“Hah…” Kuroko blinked, curious as to how he defined, “took care”.

“They came but were unable to enter the premise. Plus, if I took public transportation, it would be hard to ‘kidnap’ me,” Akashi said, raising the reins.

"Huh? Why can’t they enter?"

“Oh right, it’s because I bought the land. They cannot trespass as long as I have the deed.” Akashi breezily said, snapping the reigns as the horse galloped full charge to the race course, leaving Kuroko, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Wait, you what?”

He was too far to be heard.

[=]

It seemed that the books he often-read and brushed off as nonsense required some apologies from Kuroko.

Akashi Seijuurou was that nonsense.

“Don’t look so aghast. I’ve already spoken to the landlady about it last week as a precautionary measure. I see that you’re bewildered but understand that you require a level of extremity to counter another’s" Akashi had reassured, sounding aware of his rather estranged conduct.

That didn’t technically excuse it though but it was hard for Kuroko to say anything.

He sighed, “I see… But in that case, who am I paying rent to?" he continued, resigning to the overly-nonsensical flow.

“As per my agreement with her, you’d still be paying her. I only took the deed to expel trespassers.” He replied, smoothly covering his tracks, buying the homes of many people with lives and families— with only “pocket change”.

It was a miracle that Akashi didn’t impose anything upon his co-existential life with Kuroko.

In fact, he’d participate in taking turns with the household chores, quickly learning and understanding how to sort the garbage by days. He was almost far too agreeable in all aspects, showing no signs of dissatisfaction or any other non-idealized emotion.

Kuroko wondered if his extravagant plans and these day-to-day disciplines, were a part of how Akashi managed to always think ahead without missing a step. He took everything in stride, surprise, danger, as though they were mere information that he would process and proceed to develop an immediate strategy against.

Even his family problems were dealt in the same resolute manner.

Akashi does not confide with anyone, or at least, not with him, and handled everything himself, alone.

It was though in this case, almost incomprehensible to Kuroko, still admirable in many respects, but Kuroko wondered…if that solitude should be left as it were. He wondered if Akashi could rely on him.

However, he quickly caught himself. Kuroko had nothing to criticize in Akashi, for he had become the same.

His own deepest desire, he has not told anyone since their high school days.

He recalled the deflated basketball in the corner of his workspace.

[=]

His next plan came quickly.

“Kuroko,” Akashi called amidst the dicing of onions on the cutting board. It was his turn to cook once again, quickly preparing a feast.

“Is something the matter?” Kuroko asked as he stared at the overly meaty feast Akashi had just cooked up, probably to balance their overall lack of protein intake for the past week.

“No, I was wondering if you’d be interested in attending a social gala tonight.” Akashi invited, washing the rest of the pots as the sound of the television broadcasted commercials in front of them. The small television was at the far left of the living room, right beside the open balcony.

Kuroko curiously looked up from his dinner. “Gala?”

“Yes, a social gathering of sorts. I need to attend that to deepen my relationship with potential customers.” Akashi stated.

“…Is it also to go against your father?” Kuroko suddenly pried, placing his glass on the table.

Akashi didn’t bat an eye. “Yes. You see, my family is a meika, a prestigious household with many ties deeply rooted in Japan. I need to have power to counter that, therefore it’s necessary for me to expand internationally.”

"So you are looking for international business partners?" Kuroko deduced.

"Yes. It will be a rather lavish party. But aside from that, I’m inviting you because I thought it would be good experience, for there is someone who would like to meet you there."

 “Meet me?” Kuroko asked, surprised. Other than Akashi, he was sure he didn’t know someone of high social standing, even Kagami and Midorima just happened to have parents with admirable occupations—or so he believed.

“Yes, they’ve wanted to meet you for a while now.” Akashi said, pointing to the television screen as it reflected a lean blond male.

Kuroko blinked as he recognized the face on the screen, momentarily too shocked to respond—before he immediately declined.

…Out of habit of course. Their relationship from the start had been like that, for he had always called out to Kuroko first.

However, somehow Kuroko still found himself in a nicely fitted suit, standing in a fancy hotel ballroom in order to meet him.

It was a strange reversal.

“Kuroko, I need to make a few introductions, I’ll be back soon.” Akashi Seijuurou, wearing a brown custom-fitted suit, said, leaving him with a light pat on the back as Kuroko veered around only to find himself lost in the crowd.

“Eh?” He didn’t exactly expect Akashi to leave him alone so easily. However, nothing could be done. He understood that Akashi was a busy person—he always had been.

Deciding to accept his fate, he mixed into the crowd, easily slipping past butlers and women in pretty dresses. The scent of cigar, the wine, all that was viewed as unnecessary static as he walked, beginning to deeply regret his decision. It seemed that fancy parties did not exactly suit his definition of a preferred night out.

He was unused to this situation, everything about it, and could only berate himself for how easily all his relationships seemed to have changed.

Regardless, it was already too late to back out. He could only advance forward, until he saw a golden-haired man blend and mingle with the crowd, with the intention of moving with the tides of the whimsical socialites. It may be unintentional, it could be unintentional but Kuroko noticed how he was inching forward—towards him.

A strange sense of unease developed in his gut. He held his breath as the man came closer, something that used to be so unlike him when dealing with him. However, before he could discover the reason for this abnormality, a woman pushed past Kuroko, effectively ending possible contact.

“Ryo-kun!” She exclaimed, addressing him with strange familiarity as she displayed her brightest smile, emphasized by her Chanel lipstick, tilting her head at just the right angle to show off her tousled hair, allowing her gold earring to peek out enticingly.

A chuckled escaped the man’s lips as an unrivaled smile about a billion watts brighter, flickered across his face. “Ah, I’ve wanted to meet you for so long!”  He exclaimed with a voice brimming with genuine joy.

Kuroko stared, unmoving.

“Ah really? Me too Ryo-kun I’m actually you’re biggest fa—“

“Kurokocchi!” Kise Ryouta beamed, eyes gazing straight at Kuroko with the brightest smile Kuroko had ever seen.

The acid in his gut disappeared. Kuroko stared back, expressionless.

He had wondered what he would say, how he should say it only moments before yet now, the words automatically tumbled out from his mouth, like water, natural and pure. “It’s been a while, Kise-kun.”

He gave a polite bow, a gesture that earned another beam from Kise as he parted those suspiciously glossy lips and exclaimed, “Thank goodness, Kurokocchi is still the same!” However, it seemed the same didn’t hold true for Kise as he immediately turned to the dejected woman, grabbing Kuroko by his shoulder and pulling him in.

The contact caused Kuroko to flinch, only a thin neuro-process away from unleashing an Ignite Pass Kai onto Kise’s spleen as he vaguely heard the model introduce him to the girl.

“Ah, sorry for being so rude! This is actually a childhood friend I haven’t seen in years. I was a bit overly-excited tonight and accidentally just—haha.” He released a sheepish grin.

Kuroko wondered exactly what time period did Kise consider to be his childhood, although metaphorically their middle school days did seem to be described by Kise as his passionate youth.  

“A-ah is that so?” The woman returned, still in shock from being ignored. Upon seeing her reaction, the blond slowly bent down, so his perfectly chiselled face could be aligned with hers.

A gentle smile hung on his lips. “You’re a very kind person…Shirakiin-san. Thank you.” He said while Kuroko was certain his eyes had momentarily darted to her nameplate.

“Y-you know my name?”

“Yes. You’ve left a great impression on me after all,” Kise winked as blood threatened to burst from her nose but instead manifested in the form of a small yelp, a sound akin to the one made by cherubs, signalling the opening of the gates to heaven.

Taking this as a chance to escape, Kise kept up this front and grabbed Kuroko’s arm, dragging him into the crowd and out the other end.

Following wordlessly yet staring back at the half-passing of an unsuspecting woman, Kuroko took it back. He took it all back. He regretted coming here, for sure.

Upon reaching a more secluded area, Kuroko flatly intoned. “…Kise-kun, you’ve become very disturbing.”

Kise immediately jerked up. “Hah?!”

[=]

“It’s only because of that, Kurokocchi! I’m serious here!” Kise Ryouta exclaimed, suddenly reverting to his sixteen year old self and below as he attempted to explain his journey since graduation.

According to him, upon his graduation, his manager had signed him into a stage audition for a short commercial about bottled water. Although he did do modelling gigs, this time they had a scenario in which he had to enact, namely one that involved becoming a refreshing water-pH maniac. Apparently, through tapping into his innate ability to taste differences in water, Kise had aced the audition and consequently somehow became an actor.

Given his extraordinary talent for mimicry, naturally, he was good at it too.

“Ahh, it all happened so quickly that I hardly had any time to react.” Kise complained as he leaned against the railing of a balcony, sucking in the crisp night air.

“Hmm, is that so? Then is this type of behavior also a part of that?” Kuroko asked apathetically.

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“The way you treated the lady back there.”

‘Oh! Ah you see, my manager said it would be good for me to uphold some kind of public image and that ended up being what I went with. Convenient isn’t it?” Kise grinned, only to receive the same cold stare from Kuroko. “Are you that against me having it?!” Kise cried.

“Eh?” Kuroko blinked, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “No, it’s just that, I thought it was unlike the Kise-kun I knew. I was…caught off guard at the time.”

Kise gave this some thought, before realization dawned on him in the form of sunflowers metaphorically sprouting from his back. “Does this mean you missed me Kurokocchi?” He widened his eyes in glee, although it was hard as usual to determine his sincerity.

Upon seeing his response, Kuroko flattened his lips. “Ah, I’d like to revise my statement. Kise-kun has always been like this—very flashy and slightly irritating.” He suddenly concluded.

“Eh?! How mean! Is that what you always thought of me?!” He demanded.

Kuroko only nodded in affirmation. “But, the Kise-kun on the court is different. He is very passionate and honest, almost naively so. Maybe that was the Kise-kun I was seeing. I was mistaken.” He uttered, as though speaking of a distant past.

His words however, caused Kise’s eyes flicker, a certain hopelessness pooling into them. “…heh, Kurokocchi saw right through me.” He intoned, voice suddenly low and rather serious.

Kuroko quirked a brow as Kise continued without him, already taken by his own monologue. “Could you tell Kurokocchi, that I don’t get to play basketball much anymore?”

Kuroko stared as Kise’s smile grew forced and sullen, a smile unbefitting of a model. “It’s just that, as an actor and a rarity among even Japanese models, I ended up constantly travelling world-wide, dedicating my time to work instead. Sure, I still needed to do cardio and stuff but I feel like nowadays I’m spending my time learning how to spar rather than shoot hoops.” He complained, flopping his arms forward on the railing as his head lurched down to face the bottom floor.

"Spar?"

"For my recent action film! Haven’t you seen it yet Kurokocchi?" Kise chimed, preparing to go off on another forced tangent.

"No I’m not particularly into visual media."

"Ahh is that so, you still like books best don’t you. Ah but…basketball the most right?"

Kuroko was reluctant to reply.

"… If you’re regretting this then why didn’t you continue with basketball? You could easily get into the bj league like Aomine-kun." He finally offered but only watched Kise deflate more into melancholy.

"Really? Even if you say that, I don’t think so,"

"…why not?"

"Because basketball didn’t choose me." Kise explained.

"Eh?" Kuroko blinked. He thought it was the opposite. Kise was blessed with talent. He wasn’t hailed as a legend for nothing. However, it may have been this preconception that made Kuroko overly-biased and utterly incapable of empathizing with Kise.

According to him, after high-school graduation, no one ever told him he should play professionally. He didn’t even get any scouts coming for him. Instead, his sisters and manager urged him to become an actor when he entered university and he did for a lack of a better goal. He eventually became so skilled they wanted him to go full-time, something he was unsure of because of basketball.

Yet, when he confided with his old teammates who were already second-year undergrads, Kasamatsu kicked him and told him to figure it out himself.  By the time he was able to think, he was half-way across the world in Europe and stayed there for shooting for about 4 months. When he got back, he had to catch up on his studies, and slowly lost physical contact with the others.

His middle school teammates weren’t any better. Especially Aomine. He just upped and left with Momoi somewhere. And somehow, via the passing of time, he ended up here.

Kuroko made a face. “Kise-kun, is that how you decided basketball didn’t choose you?” He asked, voice strained with irritation.

"Yeah I guess so," he admitted shamelessly either from ignorance or plain stupidity.

"Kise-kun, isn’t very smart are you?"

Kise veered up. “Huh?! How mean!” He cried, frivolous as ever.

Kuroko bit his lip. “Kise-kun did you expect basketball to come and whisk you off to Neverland?”

"W-well…" As terrifying as it were, Kise Ryouta sounded almost sheepish. Kuroko sighed. "If no one came to scout you, instead of letting life sweep you away to get you to become an actor, why didn’t contact scouts yourself?"

"Geh!" Kise flinched before he slowly unwound onto the railing once more. "Well…to be honest, I was a bit embarrassed maybe back then?" He attempted to answer before he ruffled his neatly combed hair, golden locks tumbling onto his forehead before it was smeared back again.

"Are you an idiot?"

Kise squirmed. “But if you could say this now, why didn’t you say anything to me Kurokocchi!”

"…I thought it would obvious you would play on the national team. But…it seems I was wrong. The way you’re speaking of this Kise-kun, did you really want to play professionally?"

Kise froze in his step. His shoulders fell as slowly he tilted the side of his face down towards Kuroko, eyes almost sneering at himself. “Kurokocchi is sharp…about that, I don’t even know myself. Sure, basketball is fun but would it be fun if I turned it into a career? I’m not like Aominecchi who was forced to go because Momoicchi said he’d probably starve otherwise. I had a choice. And, maybe I was so hesitant because I didn’t really want to go…that type of thing you know?” He said, finally revealing his true thoughts.

"Ah, so you properly thought it out after all."

"Hey!" Kise cried. "What kind of warped impression do you have of me?!"

"Should I answer that?" Kuroko blankly returned.

Kise sighed in exasperation. “You really didn’t change.” He laughed. “But, I’ll admit, probably a part of me wanted basketball to come to me, because it always had…through Aominecchi…through Kurokocchi.” He intoned, squaring Kuroko. “It was because you were there, that a flame ignited within me.” He said, eyes flickering not with gratitude but with expectation.

Kuroko immediately understood. It was the eyes of a predator, looking for a hunt. “…I see you’ve miscalculated. You didn’t expect things would become boring again. And this time, you couldn’t wait...Is that why you called me here tonight?"

The blond didn’t even hide his intention. With a bright grin he replied, "Yup, you guessed it. So tell me, how’s Kurokocchi doing with basketball?”

Kuroko’s eyes flickered, feet spread apart, standing his ground.

His eyes narrowed with the same soul-shivering gaze of his high school days, brimming with passion.

Just as Kise remembered it.

"…actually I haven’t been playing either." Kuroko blankly replied.

Kise dropped his jaw. "Hah?!"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kise never wins :3 Also Kuroko has a hard time winning against Akashi and his horse. So I guess it's okay :D


	4. A Million Little Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though Kise still expects the same from Kuroko, it slowly becomes clear that in the passage of time, they have changed far too much to stay the same.

Up, down, up down…

The dull motions of the car lured Kuroko into a sort of trance. His eyes wearily gazed at the windowpane across him, the city lights seeping through, forming a veil of light.

The sky was dark. He could make out nothing but flashing silhouettes on the sidewalk, the car’s speed superseding his cognitive capabilities.

“If you’re tired I suggest you sleep.” A flat yet sultry voice said from the front seat. Kuroko carefully glanced before him, noticing a familiar whiff of red-hair puffing out from the side of the headrest. He carefully eyed the driver and noticed it was the same man who had barged into his house the other day.

The driver stayed stiffly silent, eyes steeled and only looking at the road.

Kuroko squinted. He vaguely remember falling asleep immediately after he entered the car, one of the few times he didn’t bother to pay so much attention to his surroundings, before awakening in this state.

Backpedalling to his prior activities in order to find his bearings and discern why said driver was there, he ended up stumbling upon a regrettable memory.

Kise Ryouta.

Like a broken dam flooded by gasping water, Kuroko’s mind was soon swamped.

He didn’t…mean to lie like that.

Yet, like that time all the way back in middle school, when the late autumn leaves fell and Momoi was beside him, voice quiet and desperate— he told a lie.

And it was the very same lie.

 

[=]

“Eh?! You haven’t played much? Why not!” Kise gaped incredulously, as though Kuroko and basketball came in a set.

It did.

Kuroko stayed unphased. “Because there wasn’t a club at my university and also, because I was busy as well.”

The disbelief didn’t fade from the model’s face. The brutal honestly in his voice clearly portrayed his hopes towards Kuroko, that he could surpass his expectations, break the barrier of his mundane life and bring passion to his world once more. “Seriously…? Then, Kurokocchi is…done with basketball too?” He uttered a tad slower than his usual rapid-fire speech.

Kuroko narrowed his eyes, not revealing an ounce of the unease he had always felt regarding his future with basketball. “Kise-kun you are misunderstanding me.”

The blond blinked. “Huh?”

“Although I’m not playing, I never said I would quit basketball. But, from the way you are expressing yourself, I can’t help but think your current actions are very childlike.” Kuroko stated, firing his rounds without hesitation.

Catching him by surprise, Kise raised a brow, slightly defensive. “What do you mean?”

“I’m saying I don’t think it’s right to have someone else show you passion. Playing even when it’s not fun is something one needs to do too.”

“…But for what? For the team?” Kise said disapprovingly. “I’ve always done that for Kaijou. I’ve already _learned_ to but, that’s already long gone.”

In the depths of his frozen eyes, Kuroko’s heart shook. “Even so, if you give up when there’s a wall like this…there will be nothing left of those days you spent practicing. It’ll be nothing but a fond memory. Is that alright with you?” He challenged, tone brimming with resolution.

_As if he actually believed that himself._

It was hypocrisy at its finest. He did not want Kise to be disappointed in him. Yet on the other hand, he was frustrated that Kise would expect such a thing from him. They were two emotions, so closely entangled that they were beating as one, pulsations illuminating a truth Kuroko did not want to consider.

His words left a pleasant gleam in Kise’s eyes. He believed it.

Kuroko didn’t.

He barely remembered what transpired afterwards.

[=]

The following day, by the time Kuroko woke up with a whorl of bed head, he noticed the thick swirl of red hair that was generally thirty centimeters away was gone. For once in his two weeks of residence, Akashi had _left_ , _in the morning_.

He was nearly unaccustomed to such as a change as he ate his breakfast alone, for the first time in what felt like years. He wondered what Akashi went out to do, and if it had anything to do with what he saw last night.

He had missed his chance to ask anything.

Due to a lack of an over-bearing physical activity keeping him up all night, Kuroko Tetsuya no longer slept in class and became a very studious student. However, today he found himself falling into his old habits again as the lecturer’s words, though enthusiastic, drifted in and out of his mind.

He found this a bit worrisome. He still had club activities after class.

“It’s this one, it’s this one!” His classmate, Shinohara Yuusuke exclaimed, holding out a heavily decorated book in his hands.

Still half-awake, Kuroko was attending one of the discussions in his literature circle. However although that was how it was dubbed officially, it was really just a time for people to come and read. The members held book seminars but due to differing tastes it was hard to find one book everyone was willing to read.

Nevertheless, the members were always very friendly.

“Hm, _A Million Little Pieces_?” Kuroko read, taking in the Western design of the book.

“Yup, it’s an alleged memoir by James Fey,” His classmate explained, enthusiasm bouncing off his orange hoodie. He had an air similar to Ogiwara although _he_ would never enjoy reading. “Remember the one I told you about? The drug addict in rehabilitation?” He continued, discussing a rather serious topic with a carefree tone.

“And this is the book that’s supposedly a fake?” Kuroko recalled from one of their earlier conversations.

“Yeah! I loved the book and was pretty shocked a guy had to go through all this but in the end, all of it was made up. It was seriously disappointing!” Shinohara sighed.

“Disappointing? Because it was a lie? Aren’t all memoirs a bit like that?” The vice-club president said, striding over and plopping onto the adjacent seat.

“What seriously? They’re all lies?!” Shinohara gasped.

Kuroko took a sip at his water. “I think rather than outright lies a lot is embellished to make it more interesting.”

“Isn’t that still a lie in terms of an autobiography?” Shinohara frowned, not buying their reasoning.

“That’s true but in the end, it’s still a good novel with a good story. If they gained anything, it was money and fame but that may have come round even if it wasn’t a real memoir.” The vice-president brushed off, her infinitesimal knowledge of books revealing yet another for her mental collection.

“Besides, in that case, this James has already paid his price don’t you think?” A voice like mint leaves bristled as the three’s eyes settled on the club president, a fourth year with studious black hair and matching glasses.

The club room was rather small and there were hardly 10 members here but Kuroko was nevertheless impressed by the eaves-dropping capabilities of the club.

“If that memoir is a lie from what was supposed to be a truth, then from the moment this was written James had already begun to live a lie.” The president began, using a chilling tone usually left aside for their summer horror specials.

“Seriously?” Shinohara blinked while Kuroko held a small breath, the bubble pressing against the back of his throat.

“That’s right. If it’s a memoir, there will surely be interviews, surely be people who want to pry every detail out of you to detect a lie. The world is a cruel place like that but upon lying, you have no choice but to play along, to run and hide that lie with more lies. In the end, you’ll become— _A Million Lies”_ he concluded with an ominous parody.

At this point, an uncomfortable silence griped at the room.

“…President can you stop turning everything morbid all the time?!” Shinohara suddenly protested, eyes hard and indignant, in attempt to hide a hint of fear.

The lay-man president revealed a suspiciously devious smile. “Really? That’s good to know! I guess we’ll have a new story to tell for the summer festival! This time, “ _A Million Lies, the Truth of James Fey”_ don’t you think that’ll sell?” The man grinned, showing teeth.

“Prez!” Shinohara warned when in actuality, the story itself was hardly scary. It was most likely the president’s tone, willowy yet fresh like the midnight woods. Shinohara had incredibly bad nerves.

Nevertheless, it was not he who ended up screaming. The scream came from outside, a rather high-pitched and delighted one as suddenly, like a choir train, a cacophony of sopranos rang out one after another, the noise blasting into their ears.

The noise was evidently getting closer before it rang outside the door.

Amidst the boisterous enthusiasm, a knock could be heard.

The two club leaders immediately pushed Shinohara forward, urging him to open to door.

“H-hey why me!” He complained profusely, attempting to escape.

“W-we don’t do well around crowds!” The two confessed as the younger members became quickly disillusioned.

“Oi Kuroko, help me out!” Shinohara cried, refusing to be the scapegoat while his classmate merely shook his head.

Resigning, the gangly student creaked open the door, only to be faced with a face that screamed _radiant shine_ —or the exact same face on the “RADIANT SHINE” billboard he saw every morning.

“Kise Ryo?” He squinted as the blond, a full head plus neck taller gave a friendly wave.

“Hey there, is this the literature club room?” Kise beamed as one of the many girls behind him began chattering away about how there was no way she could by wrong.

Shinohara didn’t particularly do well around pretty boys. He was subconsciously defensive. “Yeah, so what?”

He hadn’t opened the door all the way but this didn’t deter Kise from attempting to peer into the room.

“Actually I’m looking for someone. Is Kuroko Tetsuya here?”

Kuroko held his lips in place, not uttering a word. He was exactly three metres away from the door, plenty of room for escape or immediate confrontation. Yet, all he could do was sit, wondering why Kise had to be here with _this timing._

Considering their past relationship, it really wasn’t new for Kise to pull a stunt like this but the only thing on Kuroko’s mind right now, was if for his own ego …he had to lie again.

To Kise?

The answer came rather naturally. He sucked a breath and stood up. “Yes, I’m here.”

“Oh, Kurokocchi!”

His gut clenched yet nevertheless, with a perfectly flat expression, crafted to deal with him, he parted his lips. “Kise-kun, are you here to cause trouble for me?”

“Hah?! So mean! I just missed you more than any of the girls I’ve dated!”

“Kise-kun please stop acting like that.”

One more exaggerated than the other, it was a conversation full of not-so-innocent pretenses.

[=]

Upon returning home Kuroko realized that his living room was swamped with newspapers, a crinkled mass of words blotted out by thick black ink.

In the center of such an environmentally disastrous world was Akashi, kneeling beside a large vertically stretched canvass containing the words “Nothing ventured, nothing gained” in kanji, emblazoned with bold powerful strokes, as though the footprints of the world were dusted upon it.

A large calligraphy brush in his right hand was blotted black with ink as Akashi Seijuurou, in black with pale blue stripes and wispy cloud kimono glory, rose from his spot, sharp eyes looking closely at the wisp of each stroke.

Kuroko did not think that master calligrapher was another one of Akashi’s many occupations.

“Welcome back.” Akashi said nonchalantly, not bothering to give more formal greetings and instead, reared up the vertical canvass and leaned it against the wall.

“I’m back.” Kuroko replied with half an ounce less enthusiasm than even the usual tone, placing his bag on the kitchen table. “And Akashi-kun is…?”

“I’m doing a bit of calligraphy. A few members of my company would like something like this so I decided to take a bit of time to make it myself.” Akashi explained, assuming Kuroko was able to fill in the blanks as to why their sole workspace was trashed with newspapers lining the tatami.

“Is that so?” Kuroko said, “that is thoughtful of you to do so.” He uttered, fatigue escaping from his throat. He had come home only an hour later than predicted yet his body felt unusually tired, like a toxin had taken hold of it.

“Not particularly. It was simply necessary.” Akashi returned prim and proper as he slowly tore away at the newspapers, revealing the wooden tatami beneath, smooth and glossy as the day it was renovated.

Kuroko followed his movements, noticing how smooth they were in a kimono. Although Akashi was merely performing a simple action, the subtle grace he had when he moved, was thoroughly outlined by the wearing of such formal attire. The stripes moved in time with shoulders, and it was as though the small wisp like patterns on it had come to life.

It was a rather comforting feeling, as though Kuroko was floating among clouds, tranquil and still, unlike what he had come across today.

Yet, for some reason, he only felt bitter, a hint of darkness clouding his eyes.

Acting so calm like this was unfitting and ironic. There was nothing tranquil about the situation at all. After all, it seems that there were a lot of things Akashi hadn’t “mentioned” to him. Important Things.

“And, was it for the same company’s sake, that you gave Kise-kun my contact?” He asked with unnerving neutrality. His afternoon rendez-vous with Kise at the university was three-quarters Kise chattering and one-quarter running away from fans. Although that may have been the very reason for Kuroko’s physical and mental fatigue, he obtained quite a bit information on Akashi’s movements.

The gala was really the doorway to obscure business deals. Kise of all people was Akashi’s accomplice. As for Kuroko—he was apparently the “deal”.

Knowing Kise had a tendency to exaggerate things, he at least had the right to know what was going on—straight from the puppeteer’s mouth.

However, Akashi didn’t stop at all. As elusive as a brush on paper, he continued to glide his hand up and down in a rather hypnotic manner as the indiscernible wisps danced upon his back, soon revealing their true form: dragons.

It had been a dragon pattern all along, a symbol highly befitting of Akashi Seijuurou. In fact, just as calm yet powerful as his back had been, Akashi parted his lips. “Yes. It was for multiple beneficial reasons that I allowed Kise to have contact with you.”

The strange irritation Kuroko felt mixed with his fatigue.

“Does that have to do with Okazaki-san who took us home yesterday?” Kuroko pressed.

Akashi furrowed his brow. “So you were conscious enough to tell…yes that’s right. I have given my father no choice but to have the driver drive us back, although that was the last time we will be using his services.”

“And Kise-kun’s involvement was necessary for this?” Kuroko questioned, trying to unravel a scheme Akashi had decided all by himself.

Suddenly, the red-head’s expression grew flat, revealing a hint of dissatisfaction. “So Kise told you after all.”

Instinctively, Kuroko put his guard up. The slight change would’ve been perceived as disconcerting by anyone.

However, he was not to be deterred. He had pressed enough with formless questions. “…Akashi-kun, exactly what have you been doing, and why?”

Their long, silent, and suffocating acquaintance had paid off. As Kuroko preempted, Akashi did not lie. Still, there was a clear sense of disappointment in his voice. “I already told you that Thursday would be the last time you be troubled by guards,” the businessman began before curtly disclosing his scheme.

The gala was one where all of the Akashi household’s prominent business partners and rivals had attended. However, due to a request, Kise Ryouta had also been invited, allowing Akashi to use that opening to reestablish contact with the model and use his connections to naturally worm his way in. This was all he required from Kise and as thanks, Akashi offered to give him a chance to meet Kuroko.

Kuroko felt a sliver of distress creep up his sides. It was almost too cold of Akashi to stay so composed despite admitting that he had been using him as a bargaining tool. Yet, he did not vocalize his accusation. Not yet.

According to plan, Akashi then decided to greet the other attendees and introduce himself to be the owner of his own company, a subgroup of the main house created by himself to practice his skills prior to taking over the Akashi household.

It was an ingenious move.

He detected that his father had no intention of letting his competitors know that his sole heir had run away from home. It was disgraceful but this worthless pride had made him a mere pawn in Akashi’s hand. By stating that his own company was a subgroup, it would be difficult for his father to use the whole of his influence to shut down Akashi’s company.

“That’s all.” Akashi concluded while dumping the rest of the newspapers into the recycling. Now, there was only a regular inkpad and an array of brushes left in the room. Instead of retrieving them, Akashi turned to Kuroko, eyes cold.

“I believe I’ve answered your questions. Now then, since you’ve decided to so _honestly_ speak to me, I feel that it’s necessary to do the same. Therefore Kuroko, aren’t you overreacting?”

Kuroko widened his eyes, feeling strangely…offended? Something was rolling like waves within him. “…Is that so?” Kuroko said, tone guarded.

“It is. And, although you didn’t say it directly, it’s been obvious what your questions have been implying. You’re bothered over the fact that I would be using you aren’t you?” Akashi said, eyes striking Kuroko like daggers.

His tone suggested that he hardly approved of that thought, only causing Kuroko to dive into the waves in his gut, sinking deeper as it swelled up, tide rising . “…Is that wrong? I am not fond of being used.”

“That would be fair point if you had actually considered the context.” Akashi said, even after taking account for Kuroko’s hypocritical ethics. “However, adding to what I have already said, Kise and I had been acquainted through work already. I just asked him to do me a favor this time but—you seem to be flattering yourself with the reason why he accepted.”

Kuroko nearly flinched. His words were offensive, humiliating even. “…Then why would he?”

“Because I know him just as well as you do. I _was_ his captain after all. Although you and Aomine may be great motivations for him, there are many others that I can easily tap into.” Akashi explained.

“Then are you saying you never used me?”

“I didn’t. In the end, you chose to come along of your free will and I had expected you to understand that.” Akashi stated as Kuroko’s brows narrowed, his body growing rigid. Was that so? Was that…really how he would have reacted?

The irritation in his limbs would not subside however. They only continued to threaten to engulf him.

He gritted his teeth.

“In fact…you would’ve because you first analyze what you are given before making a move. However, from the way you are acting right now….” Akashi continued, words slowing as he attempted to make sense of his movements. “Kuroko…are you venting your anger out on me?”

Akashi’s accusation cut through the roars within Kuroko, knifing him in the gut.

“Eh?” Kuroko blinked. “Venting…anger?” It was not like him to do something so unjust. Yet, suddenly the waves collapsed, ebbing away, revealing the true form of his unusual irritation.

Akashi was right.

He was frustrated because he couldn’t be frustrated—with Kise. When did he become such a large part of his life? Enough to sway him like this?

Ah, it was probably because he had always been one—it’s just that Kuroko had never acknowledged it.

Because their relationship had been a given.

He wanted to keep that given relationship, be frozen in time with it.

No matter how much of that made him feel guilt towards Kise, feel frustration towards himself, he still wanted it—he still wanted to be called “Kurokocchi”.

To the boy whom he denied his affections to, it was an ironic reversal.

[=]

Kise Ryouta sat on a hill, in an empty part of the world that was the best attraction of the small town.

The afternoon wind rustled the grass beneath, tickling his fingers as he released a small sigh.

His eyes were fixed at a point in the sky where the clouds had covered the sun just enough so that looking wasn’t lethal, was allowed.

He was never a very emotionally insightful person. In fact, he was constantly deemed as insensitive by even Midorima during his high school years. Naturally this seemed to have applied to even himself as he reviewed his “date” with Kuroko today, thinking of how enjoyable that was before suddenly, his hand had moved towards the sky, gripping at something invisible.

The Kuroko of today was exactly how he remembered. Blunt, sometimes unexpectedly mean, but inspiring, and _perfect_.

It was so similar that he felt as if he had never aged, and he had gone back to his Middle School days…with Kuroko and Aomine.

The vision inside his mind was always perfect. There was him, Aomine, and Kuroko and the two were always in front of him—close yet at a distance.

“How cool!” he remembered laughing back then. Because he knew how horrible Aomine was and how lame Kuroko could be. He was inspired in spite of that and that, meant the world to him.

Yet, when he said it now, he realized his tone, was bitter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dedicated to puffifish. Or more like I wrote this with every angsty kikuro fic we've ever read together in mind to construct a perfectly plausible kikuro that I HOPE YOU'LL ENJOY (^v^)


	5. The Boy Who Never Grew Up

 

Clad in a green shirt and matching tights, there was a boy who could fly with fairies and best even the most treacherous pirates.

That boy was Peter Pan, the boy that resided in Neverland and the boy who Kuroko’s grandmother had told him about during Storytime since young.

Unfortunately, Kuroko read the original when he grew older and his image of a boy with limitless freedom, was crushed by that meteorite Kuroko so often spoke of.

The actual boy was much more childish, so innocent and honest that he was inconsiderate and cruel on many occasions. Yet nevertheless, endearing. It was because he was so honest, so passionate that his adventures seemed so dazzling.

Otherwise, Kuroko who had straight-laced beliefs as a child, would never have been able to finish that.

It was unfortunate that Kuroko had met Kise, because he soon saw that little boy in him.

Honest to the point of being rude, apathetic when disenchanted, yet so passionate and bright about what he loved. All of those things were Kise Ryouta.

[=]

"I always wanted to meet you, Aominecchi!"

Like a burst of sun, that was the first thing Kise Ryouta said when they met, on an overwhelmingly bright day.

He stood before him, towering above with an impossibly stunning grin on a face chiseled to perfection.

"Hah?! You mean HE will be my personal trainer Aominecchi!" The blond then said, jabbing a finger rudely at Kuroko while the shorter of the two blinked in response.

It was through this, that both thought it would be hard for them to get along.

Kise denied those who were weak, who he couldn't respect and in contrast, Kuroko had decided that he didn't like Kise Ryouta all that much either. Although in his case, it was an emotion that had already begun to prick at his heart two weeks prior before it finally solidified into his truth.

It was slightly unfair to hear that it only took Kise Ryouta two weeks to enter first-string.

He was someone whose talent denied the effort Kuroko stood for and no matter how nicely he coated it, for a middle-schooler, it was just a _bit_ dissatisfying. Really, just a _bit._

Regardless of his comments, Kuroko still held up his head and said, "I look forward to working with you".

He took a step forward back then, that self-confidence drawing Kise in.

What his role was, what he could do for the team, concepts that amazed Kise to no end were released with that step.

He didn’t expect that at all.

Within two weeks, Kise’s attitude towards him did a 180. Instead of doing a wistful sigh and wondering what he did wrong to have such a weak instructor, he was practically begging Kuroko to send him one of “those awesome passes”.

Kuroko wasn’t sure exactly what he did that warranted this but soon, he understood that Kise respected him, perhaps even looked up to him. That respect was what got him the name “Kurokocchi”, a name that stood for the current state of their relationship.

Kuroko had…wanted things to stay that way. Despite initially disliking the name, it grew just like how Kise grew on him that maybe, after all this time of separation, he didn’t want to part.

The reason he lied, the reason he acted strong was because he feared that because Kise only came, seeking for the person he was before, the person who had basketball with him all those summers ago, that Kise would not accept the person he was now.

He was the staple of ordinary after all. There was nothing that would earn a “cchi” to his name.

However, upon looking at this closely, it seemed that he had been the one looking down on Kise instead.

Didn’t all this…just mean he didn’t trust _him_ at all?

Kuroko Tetsuya did not see Kise as anything other than Peter Pan, that incredibly honest little boy who would become immediately disinterested when faced with things that did not live up to his dreams.

There was a wall between them since the start and Kuroko almost felt obligated to always be one step in front of him, without considering Kise’s feelings at all.

In the end, the person who was unfair was Kuroko.

Surely, the Peter Pan he had met all those summers ago had grown up. There was no such thing as Neverland.

It was just the workings of Kuroko’s imagination.

 [=]

“Hm, what would I think of Kurokocchi if he didn’t play basketball?” Kise Ryouta blinked in surprise. “Hmm, probably the same as I used to I guess…someone who looks weak and kinda gloomy?” He replied.

Kuroko nearly lost his footing at the door. He had just gotten back from work, only to find Akashi leisurely speaking with Kise in the living room.

“Um, exactly what is going on?” Kuroko voiced as the two heads turned his way.

“Oh Kuroko, welcome back.” Akashi said as Kuroko sent him a near accusing look, only to have the red-head blink back in incomprehension.

“Ah Kurokocchi, surprised to see me?” Kise beamed.

“Very,” Kuroko retorted as he placed his backpack beside his desk in the living room and sat down by the two. “Why is Kise-kun here?”

“Visiting of course! Although, even I didn’t think Akashicchi would let me in.”

“Considering how you were causing a commotion outside, I thought it would be best to let you in—and make you realize how much of a mistake that was.” Akashi stated as sweat immediately poured from Kise’s semi-permeable glands.

“Well…I gotta say, the first fifteen minutes was terrible. Cause it’s been so long, I forgot that talking with Akashicchi was seriously hard!” He said, although that was a complete understatement.

The first 15 minutes was him sitting uncomfortably while Akashi sipped his tea. His attempts to initiate conversation were completely shut down and for reason, Akashi asked if they wanted to play Go.

Kise lost horribly and _refused_ to start again, only to have Akashi preach about how his actions made no sense. If he was bad, he had to get better. Life was about self-improvement after all. His lack of initiative was alarming. Then Akashi started speaking in that extremely detached tone about the workings of humanity in general, tone light and innocent, almost curious.

Having to sit through all that, Kise was scared.

“It’s merely because neither our interests nor priorities match up.” Akashi dismissed.

Kise swore there was much more than that.

“Is that so? Even though the two of you sounded as though you were getting along just now?” Kuroko asked.

Releasing a sigh, Kise exclaimed, “Ah, that was because it was about basketball, more specifically if Akashicchi still played.”

Kuroko tilted his head. "Is that so? Then I was mistaken. I thought I heard some pretty offensive things about me."

Kise froze. “You heard that?! Well, Akashicchi asked that alright?!” Kise defended, immediately picking up on Kuroko’s dangerous tone.

“Is that so Akashi-kun?” Kuroko blankly turned his head back only to see Akashi make an extremely puzzled expression.

“…You were the one who decided to answer it so honestly Kise. Moreover, there is nothing wrong with an honest critique, it allows one to look within themselves and improve.”

“How do I improve from someone I never was Akashi-kun? Hypothetical situations aren’t relevant in the least.” Kuroko retorted.

“Then there shouldn’t be any reason to become agitated over a hypothetical situation correct?” Akashi smiled.

Kuroko flinched, getting a sense that he was doing this on purpose.

He leaned forward on the tatami. “Then what about Akashi-kun, Kise-kun?” Kuroko suddenly asked. “What would you think of him if he didn’t play basketball?”

 

"Eh, why so suddenly?" Kise blinked.

Kuroko's eyes loomed before him. "Because…I'm curious." He decided, his flat tone pressing him down.

"...K-Kurokocchi." Kise sweatdropped.

He sighed.

"Erm... Let's see. For Akashicchi, I guess I wouldn't approach you either." Kise flat-out expressed.

Akashi’s brows quirked. The scariest part was probably his expression was still flat.

He hesitated. He wondered if he should really be doing this. He might end up getting another lecture…

“Erm…well I guess since Akashicchi in Middle School was pretty well-known for coming from somewhere rich and always had the top grades as well, I would think he was some arrogant rich kid and wouldn’t bother?” He said, peeking every so and then at Akashi’s expression to make sure he didn’t seem well, _mad._

“Ah. To be honest I would think the same. I generally don’t do too well with those types.” Kuroko quipped although he realized this probably applied to Kise far more than Akashi.

Akashi blinked, surprised. “Is that so? That’s a rare reaction.” He said, as the two pointed their gaze at him.

“Huh?”

“Of course there are differences but my general experience with others had been people willingly approaching me….generally for homework help and the occasional gift.” He remembered.

No. Kise was pretty sure that wasn’t _just_ for “homework help”.

“Well, with accolades like that, no wonder Akashi-kun would be popular.” Kuroko admitted. “But in that case, wouldn’t you two need to get along anyways? I remember near the end of the first year, the school was distinctly split into an Akashi faction and Kise faction.”

“Factions?” Akashi said, sounding completely unaware. No wait, he vaguely remembered Nijimura slapping him on the back and laughing about something.

“Oh! Right, something like that happened too didn’t it,” Kise recalled, filling with nostalgia. “Since I don’t like getting involved with that heavy stuff, I didn’t do a thing!”

“No please get involved. I remember my classmates even starting to devise a plan to take the others down.” Kuroko reprimanded.

Kise froze. “Ah, that’s when girls start getting really scary…” he said in a tone underlining his traumatic experiences. “Even if you say that, I wouldn’t know what to do!”

“Hmm, the courteous thing to do would be to approach Akashi-kun and make it seem that you two are friends, hence merging the two factions.”

Kise gave this some thought. “…No, I couldn’t possibly do that.”

“Eh? Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure they will start making BL doujinshis of us.”

Kuroko made a face. He wondered what kind of life Kise had to live as a model to skew his perception of women to this degree.

“BL doujinshis? And that is?”

“No, Akashi-kun doesn’t have to know.” Kuroko immediately cut in.

Akashi seemed offended. “Kuroko, nothing should bar me from obtaining more knowledge,” he said, procuring a shiny iPhone from his pocket and rapidly typing it in.

Kuroko made a face. Ah, Akashi.

It was unfortunate that Google Images always came first. It was also unfortunate that the first image was two men going at it.

Akashi’s face fell.

“…Hmm, so that’s how a man would accept another’s genitalia. It looks quite uncomfortable though—“

“Stop.” Kuroko suddenly cut in. “please stop.”

Kise doubled over with laughter. “Akashicchi, I can’t believe you said that with a straight face!” He cried, tears coming from his long-lashed eyes. “But you’re right, it looks like it would hurt a lot. I don’t get people who are into this stuff,” he complained, revealing he had been thinking about this too.

“Plus, there’s a top and bottom system too, it’s just so messed up so I can’t even imagine what doujinshis there would be if it were about _us_ ” He said as Akashi was slowly attempting to piece together the definitions of his “jargon”.

“Ah but if it’s with Kurokocchi,” Kise began jokingly, but Kuroko threw a book at him before he could finish.

“…Even though half my appetite is gone, it’s time to prepare dinner.” Kuroko said, fed up enough to change the topic, regardless of relevancy.

“Ah right. It’s your shift today.” Akashi recalled.

“Oh, does this mean I get to eat Kurokocchi’s cooking? Sweet, can I help out?” Kise beamed, already following suit.

And as though it the topic had never existed at all, Kise transitioned to the next exciting thing, offering to help.

Ah, these were the abilities of Peter Pan.

...Kuroko was really going delusional.

[=]

He vaguely wondered if Akashi was any good at clearing unnecessary thoughts. Although Kuroko wasn’t completely sure that he wanted to go to Akashi for a self-zen session, he realized that even thinking this already meant that he was thinking far too much.

In the end, staying with himself for too long was never good. The doubt towards Kise, the self-loathing for that doubt, he understood that enough was enough.

The sound of rhythmic chopping passed straight through the feeble walls of the apartment. To insure no accidents occur, Kuroko asked him to be in charge of cutting up the vegetables and he, was surprisingly doing a very good job.

His large and smooth hands gripped the carrot, slicing through the skin with a quick yet effortless blow.

Akashi stayed in the living room, clacking away at his laptop with one hand and reading off a file in the other.

“So Kurokocchi, how long have you been living with Akashicchi?” Kise suddenly asked, pausing his work to reach for another carrot.

“Hmm? For about two weeks.” Kuroko said, preparing the meat

Kise seemed surprised. “Really? Just that? You two sound so close.”

Kuroko didn’t expect to hear that. Was he close with Akashi? He didn’t particularly think so. “Is that right?”

“Yeah. Kurokocchi’s amazing to be able to get along with Akashicchi like that,” Kise said. “Especially since you used to have very different ideas about basketball. Akashicchi in high school was getting pretty scary after all,” Kise sighed, recalling Akashi’s very long speeches regarding victory.

It wasn’t wrong to him before, but ever since Seirin beat Kaijou, twice to boot, he didn’t feel the same way.

Kuroko stopped his knife. There it was—the bubbling irritation.

“Kise-kun, exactly what do you think of when you call me ‘amazing’?” He began, blurting out his words instead of choosing them carefully.

He still chose the meat carefully though. He cut around the fat parts.

Kise blinked, taken back. He had expected Kuroko to brush him off again. “Erm exactly what I say?”

There was a moment of silence as Kuroko turned his gaze directly at Kise, expression a gentle pokerface yet it was clear that his eyes were probing him.

“…Please stop that, because that isn’t true at all.”

“Eh?” Only Kise’s lips moved.

“Kise-kun, have you ever thought that I was the same as you, that I’m not doing very well at all?” Kuroko finally spoke, voice cracking far less than he had expected.

Kise widened his eyes. It was unlike Kuroko to say such a thing. In that instant, Kuroko’s shoulders seemed to have shrunk. He had gotten even shorter and…smaller. Yet, somehow that far-off image of the boy in his mind seemed to have gotten closer, within his reach.

He wasn’t good at analyzing emotions but he felt it, and stretched his hand out towards it, grabbing for it.

“I’ve thought about it.” He replied, answer firm.

Kuroko looked surprised, _too surprised._ It was enough for Kise to feel offended.

“Hey what’s with that reaction?!” He demanded as Kuroko blinked.

“Ah no, I was just very surprised.” Kuroko apologized but it was obvious even he didn’t expect much from Kise in the emotional division.

Kise sighed. “Well anyways, I have thought about it but, I stopped thinking because you probably wouldn’t tell me.”

Kuroko wasn’t responding. He was genuinely taking a very long time to process this.

“Ahhh god just what do you think of me?!” Kise exclaimed, “fine I’ll give you an example! Um…right, after our first match in high school!” He declared, pointing a finger at Kuroko.

“…First match?”

“Yeah, the one where I…whacked your head by accident.” Kise said, putting a finger to his cheek sheepishly.

Kuroko pursed his lips. He was surprised Kise still felt guilt over that.

“Anyways, I asked you why you quit basketball that day too right?”

“Right.” Kuroko replied.

Kise nodded. A long breath escaped his lips as he stepped back, elbows leaning on the counter. "That day, you told me you didn't know why you quit, that you just disliked basketball. But, you always knew didn't you?" He asked, voice growing soft instead accusing, gaze sweeping the ground.

He seemed almost resigned, just like how Kuroko had felt towards him.

"...why do you say that?" Kuroko asked, for that was the only thing he could say.

“Because Kagamicchi told me the truth after the Winter Cup, that it was actually because of what we did at our 3rd year tournament.” Kise said, not a trace of the frivolousness in his tone. He sounded stern, as though he had waited so long to say this that he became fed up. He was releasing all of his pent-up stress onto Kuroko with that guileless gaze.

“Kagami-kun did?” Kuroko uttered. Ever since the night he finally confessed that to someone, he thought that topic would remain with himself till the end of his life.

“He did and to be honest, I don’t even remember which school but the trigger was me—who wanted to play a point game right? What I did, caused Kurokocchi to lose a friend didn’t I?” Kise continued, without even a flicker in his eyes.

It caught Kuroko off guard. “The situation couldn’t have  been helped. We were too strong. Besides, Ogiwara-kun is my good friend again, that doesn’t matter anymore.” He dodged. He never had any intentions of condemning Kise or any of the Generation of Miracles. He simply perceived the whole situation as him being too incompetent to change them.

“…Kurokocchi too huh?” Kise nearly laughed, rasping out his last word. “Aominecchi and the others all said the when we heard it from Kagamicchi. And it’s true, it is in the past, apologizing wouldn’t make a difference and nothing could’ve been done at the time…but still, Kurokocchi—why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you at least complain to me when I asked?”

_Why did Kagami have to tell him? After all that time?_

Kuroko moved his lips, trying to form words.

Kise finished it for him with almost a sneer—directed at himself. “Seeing this, even I finally get it, it’s because you don’t trust me at all.”

“…I didn’t want to burden you with something unnecessary.” Kuroko retorted, tone almost defensive.

“Something you didn’t think I’d understand.”

The blue-eyed man grew slightly agitated.

It was strange, even though he planned on telling Kise himself, a part of him was on autopilot to ensure that Kise wouldn’t find out, even when he did. The hypocrisy was so great, it was almost laughable.

“Admit it, Kurokocchi doesn’t trust me at all.”

Kuroko sighed.

“No, no I don’t,” he admitted, the delivery so quick that Kise couldn’t process it.

“Eh?”

“I said I don’t” Kuroko continued in the same calm manner as Kise widened his eyes. “Because I didn’t think you did anything that would make me trust you in the emotional sense. That’s the same for the others as well.”

“Huh? Why though?!” Kise demanded, he thought he was plenty trust-worthy.

At this point, Kuroko was too far gone to consider delicacy. He immediately pointed to the event at the party. “For example, that too didn’t show me what I wanted. I didn’t go there to hear you say that, to say I’m amazing.”

“?! What’s wrong with that? You are! You’re able to say and do such cool things!”

Kuroko shook his head. “Those were just empty words. I too, even wanted to quit basketball, because it was meaningless now.”

Kise blinked. “T-then you li-“

“Yes. I lied. That’s why I didn’t want you to tell me that.”

“Why though?”

Kuroko lowered his gaze. “Because you’re Kise Ryouta. From the start because of what I am to you, I ended up wanting to live up to that. In the end…I—didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me? Why would I—“ and Kise suddenly remembered his conversation with Akashi.

_Ah, Kurokocchi without basketball? Probably just someone weak-looking and gloomy!_

If Kuroko had disappointed him, what would happen? Would he, with his quick-to-lose-interest moods back then, continued to speak to Kuroko, to beg for passes, and to hang out with him and Aomine?

He became deathly aware that he probably wouldn’t. He gritted his teeth. “Then, what do you want from me?! Tell it to me straight!”

Kuroko suddenly went quiet.

Kise grew desperate.

“…I want you to stop looking up at me. I want you to treat me normally, as an equal.” Kuroko finally said, Kise widening his eyes.

 

“Huh? Just that?” He released, amazed at how small a change was required.

Kuroko nodded, almost uncomfortable. “Yes.”

Yet, the man Kise saw before him suddenly changed, into that short boy in Middle School with his back always in front of him, walking on ahead.

Kise reached forward and grabbed onto his hand, propelling himself to his side. Ah, suddenly the world, finally felt right.

A sprinkle of sun was cast upon his face. He beamed. “Okay! I’ll do that, I’ll do that, so please let me hear what you think sometimes too!” He said, giddy with the prospect of being on equal, _open_ terms with Kuroko.

What he was thinking, what his hopes and aspirations were, they never had that sort of talk and it was now like unravelling a puzzle box. “Ha, this will be fun!”

Kuroko smiled at him. “Then, heading right to it, could you please let go of hand Kise-kun? It’s getting very creepy.”

Kise stared. Ah, he was actually awkwardly gripping his hand.

“KUROKOCCHI SO MEAN!”

[=]

After much tribulations, dinner was finally ready and it was a great feast. In the end, Kise and Kuroko’s relationship hadn’t changed much on the surface, in fact, the blatant teasing had gotten worse. Yet, something was far more genuine about this scene than before.

There were no pretenses anymore. They were equal.

“Ah right, let’s play basketball after dinner? You haven’t played in a while too right Kurokocchi, let’s play together!” Kise suddenly proposed.

“Eh? That’s alright with me but the ball—“

Kise had already made his move. He took the old deflated basketball placed awkwardly by the lower legs of Kuroko’s table and cradled it in his arms.

Kuroko blinked. It was as though a frozen part of him was melting. He smiled. “Ah, the pump is right here,” he said, showing Kise the back closet.

Akashi looked upon this and smiled, as though he were in a peaceful place, fondly looking at the creatures decorating his miniature garden with a gaze of intrigue.

Due to their discord the other day, Akashi was aware of how Kuroko felt, although it was not as though he understood it. Regardless, he was glad that sort of hypocrisy seemed to be out of his system.

Now, he with a genuinely satisfied gaze went up to him and asked, “Akashi-kun, would you like to play too?”

“Ah right, Kurokocchi sucks at one-on-ones!” Kise exclaimed, earning him an incredibly irritated look from Kuroko.

Akashi stared, uncomprehensive before he smiled. “Mhm, I would.” He said.

And even though, the sun was dying overhead, everything looked so beautiful. From the shine of the asphalt, the rough surface of the ball, everything was beautiful. It was because he wasn’t alone.

Kuroko was with his friends. Perhaps that was what he wanted all along.

For a moment, time stopped.

When it ticked again, Kise was totally obliterated by the Emperor Eye and Shadow combination.

It was sweet revenge.

Out of curiosity however, Kuroko had asked Akashi, “for your plan, what did you say to Kise-kun for him to agree to help?”

His hunch was right. Akashi smirked. “I didn’t say anything unusual. I just thought, he was probably curious about why I would ask him for help. It’s _new_ and _interesting_ , wouldn’t you say?”

Kuroko made a face. He wondered what part of Kise’s readiness to speak to Kuroko even after accepting him as normal was due to that.

He sighed. But, that was Kise, honest to himself in every manner.

It was dazzling.

[=]

 

 

When Kise finally bade his farewells, ambling back to his hotel practically a city away, he stopped short when rearing the corner of his floor.

There was a man…with bizarre green hair.

His pajamas were orange.

He looked like a carrot. It didn’t help that he was carrying one too.

“…Midorimacchi?!”

Midorima dropped the carrot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading and have a happy kikuro day ^v^


	6. A Once Upon a Time Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Midorima reminisces about the day he almost had to call Akashi "senpai"

Midorima’s recollection of reunions had always been terrible. To him, they were almost a reminder that he clearly didn’t make any good friends in school.

In fact, even Akashi was a bit of a mistake.

On the third day of school at Tokyo University, Midorima had met Akashi again after two years. Unsurprisingly, they were in the same school.

With a slightly surprised look, Akashi had uttered, “Midorima?” in semi-recognition before a smirk hung across his lips. "Hmm, you've done well to come this far."

It sounded nothing but irritating to him. "Why do you sound like some kind of last boss?"

Akashi blinked, "last boss?" He smiled, amused. "You've changed quite a bit Midorima, is this the effect of your teammates?"

“It’s called ‘keeping up with the world’.” Midorima defended.

“Even though you considered games unnecessary?” Akashi asked with a curious expression.

“They are still unnecessary. However I feel the retention of social slang is inevitable if one were to converse.”

Akashi pursed his lips. “I see, I’m glad you were able to make friends Midorima.”

There was an instant crack in his sanity. “...Akashi, are you making fun of me?”

Akashi frowned. “Did I say anything incorrect? I believe my past assessments of you were always quite accurate. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to serve as your captain.” He said, easily speaking of the past he had left behind.

Midorima wasn't going to dwell if he wasn’t. It didn’t concern him, whether Akashi was going to continue basketball or not. There was a time where he wanted a re-match with Rakuzan, but… it seemed to have faded away over time.

“I was social in the first place. I merely choose who I am social with.” Midorima concluded. “And you, what have you been up to?”

“Up to?” Akashi blinked. “Ah, if it’s about what’s currently trending among students like us, I know of Ringo-tan.” Akashi said thoughtfully.

Midorima squinted. Huh?  _Ringo-tan?_

But wait, even before that, why was this turning into a competition?

“A teammate of mine introduced me a couple years back. I didn’t expect the series to still be on-going. Here, I have a copy with me.” He said, procuring a book from his messenger bag.

A book—with a cat eared anime girl on it.

Akashi caught him staring. “Ah, this is Kaguya-san, or as the internet calls her, Kaguya-hime.” Akashi introduced in the most nonchalant way that Midorima almost wanted to rush to whoever introduced him to such filth and shake them incessantly.

His image of Akashi was slowly crumbling away yet, he realized that despite their long time apart, they were conversing so naturally there never seemed to be any distance at all. The only time this happened was in middle school. It was an almost uncanny experience for Midorima.

Finding himself somewhat content, he restrained himself. “I see, well regardless of how your hobbies have expanded, what is your program?” Midorima asked.

“Ah, International Business. And I assume you are in the Medical Department?”

“Yes. I’m going to become a doctor.” Midorima said, as if it was any surprise. His family came from a whole assembly line. “But, International Business? Wasn’t that a course you could only take in second year?”

Akashi nodded. “Correct but that’s because I am a second-year.”

Midorima blinked. “What?”

“Yes, you see, I studied at an International School for two years and was able to gain the credits to skip a year in university.” Akashi explained.

“…I see.” So the rumors were true. Akashi had left Rakuzan. He had never personally asked about it at tournaments; it didn’t suit him.

He wondered why he left. He wondered if it was of Akashi’s will or— _that person’s._

“…Akashi why—“

“Ah but if that’s the case Midorima,” Akashi suddenly cut off.

Midorima blinked, caught off guard. “Yes?”

“Even though I am a second-year, you don’t have to address me by “senpai”.” Akashi assured, as if it was an honest concern.

...It took, a while, to process…

 “WHO WOULD EVER CALL YOU THAT!!”

That was all Midorima remembered about their re-acquaintance, the conversation somehow managing to make them last together for two full years filled with watching Akashi slowly take over the student body of whom henceforth began to address him as “Senpai”.

It was chilling and bizzare, slightly regrettable too.

Unfortunately he did not think seeing Kise in the same hotel floor prance towards him calling, “Midorimacchi!” made him more inclined to stay. 

In fact, perhaps his experience with Akashi taught him to prepare for the worst. He could sense it already; he knew what Kise was going to do, and he did  _not_ want to indulge in an all-night session of hearing Kise ruminate about their past or, more specifically,  _his_  extremely popular celebrity life.

He quickly slashed his keycard through his lock, opened the door and was halfway through it before a hand constricted itself on his arm and he knew all hope was lost.

“Midorimacchi! Why did you run away?!” Kise demanded in exaggerated shock.

“Because I knew I’d end up talking to you.” Midorima sighed.

“Wha—how cruel!” The model protested as Midorima swiped his hand off him. “Even though it’s been what, almost three years since I saw you?”

“Three years of peace might I add.”

Kise sighed, as if  _he_ was the odd one. “Right right. And how have you been? Momoicchi said you went to America to study abroad this year or something.”

Midorima frowned. Momoi? Was she  _still_  keeping tabs on everyone? “Yes, I finished the program about two weeks ago.”

“Wow that must’ve been cool, even if you were well, studying boring things.”

Midorima twitched. Was everyone out to pick a bone with him?

“So how was America, did you meet Kagamicchi?” Kise grinned.

“Kagami? There’s no need for me to ever want that and besides, I see that idiotic face every couple of weeks on my television screen.” Midorima scoffed.

Kise sweatdropped at the cold response. “Heh, well that’s just like Midorimacchi isn’t it? Ah but wait wait, did you see my vitamin water ad that went global? I even practiced English for it!”

Midorima raised a brow. “Vitamin water ad? Never heard of it.”

“Eh that can’t be! So cruel Midorimacchi!”

“I do not know and I do not care. Besides, surely it was for the better. I have no interest in hearing someone who nearly got held back a year for failing English speaks.”

Kise flinched. “That was in middle school! I properly pulled all my grades up in high school!”

“And yet you’re still an idiot.”

Kise groaned. There was no reasoning with this anti-social and critical person. “Ahh, nothing’s changed at all. I can’t believe you and Kurokocchi still bully me,” he sighed.

“Huh Kuroko? Did you meet him again?”

And Kise’s face lit up like stars. “Yeah! It was great, in fact I met him today! Though…I still can’t believe I lost so easily to Akashicchi…” Kise said, averting his eyes in gloom.

Midorima blinked? “Huh? Akashi?” The guy was making no sense as usual. Where were all these people coming from?

“Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, Akashicchi and Kurokocchi are living together now. They actually just live a couple of blocks into the residential area here.”

“?!!!” Midorima’s glasses cracked. “Living…together?” What was that supposed to mean? Besides, Akashi hadn’t seen Kuroko in what should’ve been 5 years. Exactly what happened while he was gone?

Ah. But wait.

“When you say living together, you mean rooming together right?” Midorima confirmed.

“Huh yea of course, what did you think I meant—“

“But Akashi’s family is rich. He doesn’t need to share a place. Besides, he goes to Tokyo U, it’s inconvenient for him to live in a place like this.” Midorima reasoned.

Kise widened his eyes, staring at him incredulously. “Now that I think about it…that’s true. But then why is Akashicchi going out of his way to do this?”

It was a good question. Not one Midorima could answer by speculating. Though then again, when it came to Akashi, it was always a series of speculation over proof. That was who Akashi was, always putting himself at a distance from everyone else.

However, it seemed Kise was ready to jump onto the conspiracy train.

“Oh my god. I just thought of something Midorimacchi!” He exclaimed in horror.

“Huh?”

“What if they are…secretly dating?”

Midorima choked on his spit.

[=]

The following day, the amount of giants increased at Kuroko’s door. What did these people think his house was? A free for all lounge?

“…It’s been a while Midorima-kun.”

“It has, Kuroko.” Midorima said, thankful that Kuroko was for once just distant enough to not irritate him. Now this, was an acceptable reunion.

He wondered what he could expect from Akashi as his eyes naturally followed the display of shock red hair, framing rather surprised eyes. “And it’s been six months hasn’t it? Akashi?”

Akashi narrowed his eyes. They weren’t as lively or curious as before. “It has…Shintarou.”

And the sound of airplanes invaded the room.

The sound of the day Midorima left, and despite the two years spent together in university, they walked past each other once again, like perpendicular lines meant to cross once-in-a-lifetime. Like middle school and high school all over again, all contact was cut, just like that.

They were idiotic people like this. Too unyielding to their own beliefs. They hadn’t changed at all.

“Kurokocchi!!!” Kise suddenly cried, gripping Kuroko’s shoulders and effectively ruining whatever rumination Midorima was experiencing.

“Eh? What’s wrong Kise-kun?” Kuroko

“Well, it wasn’t like I could give you my blessing in the first place, but why didn’t you tell me you were together with Akashicchi?!”

Midorima made a face.

Oh  _god._


	7. Slow Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Kuroko uncovers Midorima's dark, mortifying past.

"Please make yourselves at home" Kuroko began a little too courteously after placing the last teacup on the coffee table.

Kise stared at the ceramics. “Um, Kurokocchi...why am I the only one who gets a bowl?”

“It’s because we didn’t have enough. Kuroko replied, smoothly ignoring him while slowly pouring tea into the cups. “Here, Midorima-kun,” he continued, sliding a matcha green teacup to Midorima’s side.

Kise watched the scene with unease. “Um, is this bullying? Is this discrimination because I said something stupid?” Kise said, completely aware that Kuroko definitely had another cup lying around. Teasets didn’t come in sets of threes. Plus, he checked.

Kuroko paused for a moment. A look of feigned surprise fell across his face. “Ah, so Kise-kun does have that awareness.”

Kise flinched. “Um, Kurokocchi...could you still be mad about that…?”

Kuroko took a seat next to Akashi. “Well, personally I wouldn’t be sure how to feel when someone barges into my house telling me I was in a relationship with my roommate --if that’s what you’re asking.” Kuroko stated in a seemingly amicable manner while Kise gulped.

“Ahh come on, that was just a joke! Right Midorimacchi?” He cried as the verdant man squinted in surprise.

“What? You were joking?” He said, as though the thought had never occurred to the young med student.

Kise balked. “Hah?! Why would you think I was serious?!” He demanded in shock.

“Well, I suppose it was because it was within the range of your idiocy.” Midorima summed up with little thought.

“Hah?! What kind of impression do you have of me?!”

“Absolutely incorrigible.” Midorima offered and Kise was done.

“Akashicchi!!” He bemoaned, unable to handle the profundity of it all as his eyes shot towards the red-head busy staring pensively at a tea...leaf.

Akashi blinked, neck shooting back up in his regal form before in quick succession, said, “Kuroko, Shintaro, refrain from picking on Kise all that much” to which they all did a double-take.

When had Akashi ever suggested that? Usually he would let it unfold without second thought.

Kuroko eyed the man who seemed unaware that his care was out of character. Somehow, since the time Kise and Midorima dropped by, something about Akashi was amiss. “Akashi-kun are you--”

“Akashi. Are you unwell? Your reaction was a bit slower than usual.” Midorima cut in as slowly, Kuroko watched Akashi’s eyes glance up, tensing, tightening. Kuroko blinked. It was an unusual reaction from Akashi, who had always been calm no matter the circumstances.

“No, I was just thinking about something Shintarou. It’s nothing to be concerned about.” Akashi informed evenly yet to Kuroko, his expression still seemed tense. He wondered if anything happened between them. In fact, he didn’t even get to really ask what Midorima was up to yet.

“I see,” Midorima returned, intentions swimming beneath his lenses. Somehow the tension was beginning to settle in the atmosphere.

As he thought, something was wrong.

“Well that’s a relief. The thought of Akashicchi actually looking out for me was really creeping me out,” Kise, the resident mood-maker sighed before propping himself back up. “Ah but Akashicchi, even though you used to call all of us by our first names, how come you’ve only been calling Midorimacchi by his first name?”

At the mention, Akashi almost seemed to stiffen while Midorima's grip slightly tightened around his cup. Kuroko could see all of the subtle movements yet could interpret none of the intentions behind them.

"Oh. I suppose it's because Shintarou and I went to the same university. Somewhere along the way it must've rubbed off on me."

Even so, Akashi didn't correct it, didn't relinquish the name.

"Eh? The same university?" Kuroko blinked. This was certainly news to him.

"Correct. We were roommates at one point but I left to study abroad last year while Akashi..." Midorima's gaze fell to Akashi's redwood table, completely out of place in the living room of the humble abode, stacked "is... Up to something again."

Suddenly, a smile reached Akashi's lips. His eyes brightened, the change immediate as he chuckled, "you say it as though it's a bad thing."

"When it involves you, is there any need to question that?" Midorima scoffed to Akashi's amusement.

"Hmph, is that so?" He said, cheeks glowing with warmth, the subtle indication of happiness.

Kuroko was puzzled. In an instant the invisible tension had been diffused. Instead, he found Akashi's smile almost infectious, discovering one hinged on his lips as he added, "so Midorima-kun roomed with Akashi-kun. In that case, did you skip a year of school?"

Midorima frowned. "Skip? What would give you that impression?"

"Oh, I was just thinking, since Akashi-kun skipped two years, if you two were around each other, did you have to address him as "senpai" at any point?" Kuroko asked to only have Midorima double-over, choke, and start hacking out bits of tea while Kise completely lost it with a loud "PFFT", tears forming at every corner.

"Oh my god! Poor you Midorimacchi!"  He laughed incessantly while giving Midorima a pat that was immediately shoved away.

"Don't you dare!" Midorima snarled, face flaring like a hot tomato as he shot towards Kuroko with an accusatory, "KUROKOOOO!"

His former teammate and henceforth Aquarius nemesis seemed perfectly calm. "I'm sorry. It was an honest question." He explained as Midorima fought the urge to hurl him as far as one of his 3-pointers.

"Well, if it's an honest question, I supposed it happened... About two times." Akashi suddenly answered-- and the room went dead silent.

Kise was the first to laugh. He practically howled as Midorima completely forgot about the phantom 6th and with a visibly mortified look yelled out, "AKASHIIII!"

 

[=]

"Geez that was tiring," Kise sighed as he stretched up his arms while glancing at the afternoon light, pooling in through the white curtains.

"Kise let's go already." Midorima prodded as he slung his coat over his shoulders while the actor followed his cue and lifted himself up with exhaustion. He couldn't believe he had to spend half the time holding Midorima back so he wouldn't kill Kuroko.

Next time, he was definitely not going to take him with him. However, even he was incisive enough to notice the preferential treatment Akashi gave Midorima and slowly correlated with how he seemed to have broken a new record with how long he stayed. They didn't particularly do anything special other than chat and Midorima sharing some goods he got from the States, yet this reunion took quite a bit of time. He watched as Akashi and Midorima spoke at the door, probably about something nerdy like shogi and saw Kuroko holding out his coat for him.

"Kise-kun, I suggest you put this on. There's quite a strong wind today."

"Ah thanks for grabbing this Kurokocchi!" Kise grinned.

"No problem. Moreover, is it alright to come so often?"

"Huh? Oh yeah that's no problem. Like I said, I'm on my break!" Kise reassured though in reality, his manager would probably only allow him a couple more days.

"Still, is it alright to spend your day offs here?" Kuroko intoned to Kise's surprise.

He hummed. "Of course! Even if it's pretty cramped, I really like it here!"

For a moment Kuroko made a face, as though irritated by the cramped comment but nevertheless, was inwardly won over by Kise's smile. "I see. That's good to hear." He said in a rare moment of appreciation.

"Yeah. It's such a coincidence that Midorimacchi is here too. It'll be great if we managed to meet Aominecchi and Murasakicchi here somehow too!" He said, emulating Kuroko's thoughts.

It was true. Even though he and Midorima had never been on the best of terms for some reason, being able to converse like this was something Kuroko was grateful for and even more so if he could meet all of them again.

"Alright well, it's time to go! See you Kurokocchi! Akashicchi!" Kise waved as he stepped out of the door, Midorima waiting outside.

"Yes," Kuroko smiled before noticing Akashi walking past him, pulling his coat over his arms. Kuroko blinked. "Akashi-kun are you going outside as well?"

"Yes. I... Wanted to have a chat with Shintarou in private for a bit." Akashi addressed without even looking at him. "Kise, do you mind if you head back to the hotel on your own?" He then asked.

"Huh? Well no but--"

"Good." Akashi said as he passed the confused man and locked eyes with an equally confused Midorima.

"Akashi?"

Akashi stopped just before he had to break his neck to look up at him. "What's with that look? I only wanted to have a chat with an old friend. Besides, that's what you came here for anyways...right?" He said, insinuating something Kuroko did not quite understand yet caused Midorima's eyes to immediately darken.

"Right." He complied and the two began to head off.

"Huh, what's with them?" Kise frowned as Kuroko stared at their retreating figures. Going down the stairs made their height gap even more apparent yet more than that, he wondered if Midorima knew about Akashi's current state of family affairs.

 

He probably did--for Akashi gave Midorima the same look he gave that driver. Flat and distant yet, although it may have been a trick of the light, somehow, Akashi's expression seemed sad.

Midorima noticed as well.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the extremely overdue update! I've finally finished most of my grad work and will be using spring break as a time to catch up with this fic! Thank you so much for your patience and I do hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	8. A Barrier of Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which after years of watching everything fall apart, Midorima tries to make a change.

Parks in Japan aren’t suited for gatherings. Consisting of only two swingsets, a sandbox, and a slide, all compacted onto a small plot of land, it is not a place for two grown men to stay without horribly standing out. Nevertheless, Midorima still found himself sitting on a swing, his legs too long for him to fit unless he awkwardly parted them sideways. Akashi however, defied much logic by still managing to retain his esteemed air with one leg crossed, hands clasped around each other on his lap, and eyes downcast--the smart, pensive look.

Midorima was not to be deterred. He leaned forward, elbows pressing on his thighs as his hands came together before him, allowing him to settle nicely into his seat. “Akashi. If you have time to lead me to a place like this, shouldn't you have already explained what this is about?"

Akashi glanced his way, a small smile breaking off his lips. "And you say that now? After wordlessly following me all the way here?"

Midorima flinched, shoulders freezing up his already awkward frame as he coughed a bit, pushed up his glasses, and attempted to look somewhat composed again. "Indeed I have, meaning that I expect whatever you have to say to be worth it."

“Hmph.” Seeing him to be just as he was a year ago, Akashi released a puff of satisfaction. "I see. Well I suppose you'll have to be the judge of that." He said, and in the next moment, his sharp gaze returned.

"If you're willing, could you explain why you decided to come today?"

Midorima frowned. "Because Kise--"

"You and I both know you aren't so easily swayed." Akashi cut off, voice unnaturally cold.

It made Midorima recognize the seriousness of the situation--one that made little sense to him. However, after knowing Akashi for so many years, his confusion was quickly replaced with a guileless calmness. "I see. So you're assuming that I had an ulterior motive for coming today."

"Perhaps." Akashi returned flatly, as though he was treating Midorima like a business partner.

The verdant-haired man stayed silent for a moment, expression falling by the tiniest of eye movements. "...Did you think I came because your father asked this of me?" Midorima finally said, hitting the nail on the head.

Akashi didn't even deny it. "I'm here to ascertain that." He said. "My father switched our family physician to your father 6 months ago. Furthermore, he is quite aware of our relationship. It is not a stretch for me to question this, considering your unexpected entrance I believe." Akashi reasoned.

Midorima, a fellow man of logic, could understand this. "Yes, it isn't. However, although I have heard that you've left the house, it wasn't because of your father." He replied. Yet, somehow it sounded forced. The calm flatness of his voice sounded forced.

Akashi pursed his lips. His voice softened to its normal lull. "I apologize Shintaro, have I made you uncomfortable?" He said, ears honing in on all irregularities in the man known as his longest friend.

Midorima blinked, an automatic frown flashing across his brows. Certainly Akashi had always been considerate but, he had never taken such a tone with him before.

The whole monologue in his head was transcribed quite clumsily. "Hah?"

Akashi stared back, surprised by his confusion. "Your voice. I felt that your voice sound rather forced. Were you upset that I immediately suspected you to be working for my father?" He clarified, an intensity so unlike his usual demeanor that Midorima was getting chills from this instead.

Akashi however, would not let him off the hook. It was as though his gaze grew stronger by the second.

Midorima reacted, his scowl increasing proportionately with his discomfort until after 30 seconds, he finally gave out and almost shot up. "Enough!" He yelled, huffing to shake the chills out.

Akashi looked up at him. Midorima looked down with a fiery glare.

"Hmm... So you are upset." Akashi deduced.

Midorima snapped. "At you." He hissed in exasperation. "When did you become so nosy?"

Akashi blinked. "Nosy? I only wanted to confirm what you felt."

"Is that really necessary considering how capable you are of understanding and hence leading others?" Midorima scoffed.

"Yes because I'm not speaking to you to lead you for a larger cause. I'm speaking to you as a friend. I would like to know your thoughts the way they are." Akashi explained, so casually that one might've not even picked up on the embarrassing speech.

"F-friend?" Midorima nearly sputtered, unable to comprehend how Akashi could possibly sound so sentimental until-- Ah. Was it Kuroko?

Akashi tilted his head. "Yes. Friend. I consider you to be a dear friend."

"..." Midorima froze. _KUROKOOOOO....._

It took a while for the utter mess of a conversation to be sorted. As Midorima was never of the openly emotional sort, Akashi's questions only managed to damage his sanity instead. Exhausted, they were finally back on track, the sun nearly fully down.

"My train is leaving in 15 minutes." Midorima reminded.

"Yes I'm aware. I apologize for keeping you but I'm glad to hear my father hasn't involved you in something trivial like this." Akashi said.

Midorima frowned. He could not understand why someone like Akashi, who had been so adamant about keeping his father's favor for so long would be calling their ties trivial.

A thin line drew across Midorima's lips as a wave of questions flooded his mind. He decided to ask just one.

"Oi Akashi. What are you trying to accomplish with this?" He said, eyes lined with a certain hardness, the closest thing Midorima would muster to concern.

The red-head glanced up. "Hm. I suppose I can tell you." He said, his sharp eyes melting, coming apart for an old friend.

"I'm planning to cut all ties with my father by leaving the country as soon as I can." He stated as though it was the most natural conclusion in the world.

Midorima blinked, shock coloring his features. "You're... What?" He gaped.

Akashi frowned. It was obvious that he was judging him. Perhaps it was because thoughts like these never occurred for ordinary families.

"You're going as far to leave the country? Why?" Midorima frowned, the bridge of his nose scrunched in incomprehension.

"Is it really that surpris--"

"It is. That's a ridiculous idea." Midorima scowled.

Immediately, Akashi's eyes sharpened in distaste. "Perhaps for you. However, if I am to separate from my father, measures such as these are but a given."

"That isn't the issue." Midorima retorted. "You can't--"

"I can and I will. Why are you against this? The bird must eventually fly the coop. You in fact have already lived away from family for years. I don't see anything wrong with this."

"..." Midorima looked away. "That's...different."

Akashi was not satisfied. "How so?"

"...you'll never see your father again."

"Good. I don't plan to."

"..." Midorima gritted his teeth. He tried to find something to say. It came almost too easily.

"Have you told Kuroko about this?" Midorima cut in, his expression obscured by the afternoon light.

It was the first time Akashi heard something illogical, something out-of-place from him. "Kuroko?" He squinted. "Why would I do that? It doesn't concern him."

Midorima's lips grew tight. He did not reply.

[=]

The two of them, did not see the significance they held in the other's life. Although there was undeniable respect towards the other, shown through all their little moments of Shogi and walks home with each other, they had never considered the place they held in each other's lives.

It was simply not a thought that crossed their minds. At least, not openly.

It may have been because of this subtle barrier, this inability to express in words, the meaning of all those simple exchanges, that only they were capable of the feat of spending all of middle school together, university together, and yet still cutting off all contact the moment they left each other's sight.

Or perhaps, it was Midorima who was deficient.

Akashi had been direct with him. Yet he failed to give a proper response. He also failed to understand everything that Akashi was saying. Akashi's word and actions had all become so foreign to him that he could do nothing but grit his teeth.

Although Midorima was currently on the train home, a dull mechanical lull humming around him, he could only hear the sound of airplane engines, bringing him back to a time when Akashi was still there. They were still there, in that small college dormitory the two had called home, where Akashi said he could sleep, at far more ease than his family home.

One day, after much prodding from Takao, Midorima had given Akashi a flyer, one with airplanes and a travel-abroad offer.

That was the beginning of it all.

He wondered, if at that moment, he had committed a grave mistake. If, that hadn't happened, perhaps they would still be there, at a distance of two chairs, unlike the vast worlds that now separated the two.

The current situation, reminded him of middle school. It reminded him of the days where he endlessly shot baskets, from the three-point line, the half-line, all by himself. Aomine was gone. Murasakibara was gone. Akashi was gone. Kuroko and Kise had stuck around but, while he kept shooting, kept polishing only himself, before he knew it, they were gone as well. In that world now all to himself, Midorima had kept shooting, trying to fill a net with a hole on the other end. No matter what he did, everything came tumbling out.

[=]

On a sunny afternoon, Kuroko was checking the time. He had 5 minutes left till his shift ended. Turning towards the counter, he renewed his breath to say "Welcome" with a warm smile as a customer entered the store.

It turned out to be Midorima.

"Ah, welcome Midorima-kun, it's a surprise to see you here." Kuroko greeted, only to be brushed off by the silent approach of his towering figure.

Finding the man now looming over him with a severe glint in his eyes, somehow, Kuroko had the impression that he wasn't here to buy snacks.

He was right.

"Oi. When do you get off work?" Midorima asked.

"In 5 minutes. What's the matter, Midorima-kun?" Kuroko blinked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed and feedback would be just wonderful!


	9. The Road Less Traveled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unable to understand Akashi, Midorima turns to Kuroko, the one who was able to all those years ago. Kuroko however, gives an unexpected answer.

"Sorry for the wait," Kuroko said as he exited the store, back in his usual clothes of a t-shirt covered by blue dress shirt.

Midorima Shintarou only gave him a curt "Mn." In response as he stood at the side of the store, a can of shiruko in hand. There was something oddly tense about the way Midorima looked even though the ever-present frown on his face had hardly changed. Kuroko scanned his expression carefully before speaking.

"Midorima-kun, shall we walk while we talk? I still have some grocery shopping to do."

Midorima’s eyes flew up in surprise. They quickly dimmed to a scowl. "Oi, I said I had something important to talk about, are you looking down on me?"

Kuroko shrugged, "well, I also have something important to do such as shopping for food. Otherwise Akashi-kun will start to nag," lightening the mood.

At the mention of Akashi however, Midorima's features softened a miniscule tad. "Well, if that's the case it can't be helped." He muttered.

Kuroko blinked. As usual, Midorima had a soft spot for Akashi. No matter how much the Chuunibyou Midorima had denied their friendship, this fact had hardly changed since middle school. Hence, it was not that hard to guess the topic of their discussion.

Kuroko took a step forward, signalling the man to follow. "Well, shall we begin? Let's talk about Akashi-kun."

Midorima blinked in shock. "...why do you know that."

Kuroko smiled. "Because Midorima-kun is a very honest person."

As usual, Midorima could not tell if he was making fun of him or not.

However, because he was busy feeling irritated over Kuroko’s response, he did not notice, that a rather dark expression began to cloud the phantom’s pure blue eyes.

[=]

Although Midorima’s original intention was to grasp how much information Kuroko had on Akashi’s situation, he found himself unexpectedly interrogated instead.

Using that smooth, nonchalant tone of voice, Kuroko Tetsuya began by asking, ““So, why did you come visit?”, the same question Akashi had two days prior.

It was as if no one bought the idea that Midorima  would come in order to visit his friends--well, not that Midorima would either. He did think the “Kise dragged me” excuse would work however.

Regardless, it was through this that Kuroko learnt of how Midorima’s father was currently being employed by the Akashi household, Midorima indirectly catching whiff that Akashi has oddly decided to move his residence. Being in the area, the decided to check up on him.

“I see,” Kuroko mused as they neared the commercial area, Midorima following behind to create an odd image of a rooster following a baby chick. “But you were studying abroad in America right, why did you end up staying in this town?”

Although confused by this turn of events, Midorima still complied. “...As I’ve said yesterday, I finished my year abroad and returned. However, because school in the States ends in late April, I happened to have a lot of spare time before the semester starts for me again.”

“So you were on vacation in this town?” Kuroko continued, somehow directing the conversation further and further away from point.

“No I was here to see my relatives. My grandparents live here but live too frugally for me to directly stay with them.” Midorima said.

“I see, and hence the hotel where you met Kise-kun.” Kuroko concluded, seeming to enjoy piecing together the puzzle.

“...Right.” Midorima slowed, soon growing impatient before he retracted all his thoughts and stated, “oi, enough about me. Weren’t we going to talk about Akashi?”

There was an instance of pause as Kuroko turned his head back. Midorima saw two blank orbs gaze back at him. “Of course but, because you never said anything, I thought it might have been a good idea to break the ice.”

Midorima froze. True...since he generally disliked Kuroko, it was already a hurdle for him to so boldly contact the man. Asking him the question, hence proved to be a lot harder as Midorima spent some time mentally fidgeting with his words. He scowled. “Fine. Then I’ll just ask this now: Kuroko, do you know why Akash--”

“Ah.” Kuroko suddenly said. “We’re here.”

Midorima looked up. The sign said “Hokuto Groceries”. Before he knew it, Kuroko was already through the door.

....A vein popped.

[=]

“What do you know about Akashi?” Midorima hissed, scaring away the other customers in the aisle as wrath lept out of his furious scowl. He seemed out to rip Kuroko’s throat out if he wasn’t dutifully following behind him and actually throwing in a bunch of veggies into Kuroko’s cart as they moved along.

“...That’s a bit of a vague question Midorima-kun,” Kuroko slowly replied. “And...what is this?” He questioned, pointing to the can of beans Midorima threw in.

“That contains essential amino acids which one must integrate to their diet. And, for the record, that means I want you to tell me everything you know about why Akashi decided to room with you.” Midorima quipped, unexpectedly compromising as he turned to the tofu section and threw some silken tofu in too.

Although slightly baffled by Midorima’s actions, Kuroko supposed this was likely a norm to begin with. He sighed. “Hmm well, if it’s in regards to Akashi-kun, I only happened to meet him by chance one day. In that single day, he declared he was moving in and...here we are.” Kuroko summarized.

“?!” Midorima nearly dropped the tofu. “What?! He...decided to move in with you...that suddenly?” He demanded to which Kuroko could only give a curt nod in return.

“Yes.” He flatly said. “But, I suppose it wasn’t all that unreasonable since Akashi-kun seems to be having a family feud.” Kuroko rationalized. The flame in Midorima’s eyes disappeared.

“...So you did know about that.” Midorima uttered. As he thought, what Akashi said, that Kuroko was an outsider and hence didn’t need to know was a lie--or, at least and over-exaggeration. Surely Akashi must’ve consulted Kuroko about it.

“Yes and I assume that’s the “oddity” you found that made you come here.” Kuroko replied.

Midorima stared at the floor for a quick, pensive moment before his eyes darted back up. “Then...you know that he’s planning on separating from his father.” He said with serious eyes.

Kuroko did not seem to reciprocate his intensity. He, with his expression blank as ever, only nodded.

“Then...what do you think about all this? Do you think he should really go on with it?” Midorima asked, finally able to say the words he was struggling with.

What would Kuroko do? If, Akashi had spoken to Kuroko instead of Midorima yesterday, what might have changed?

Somehow, since that moment, when he was unable to answer Akashi’s question, nothing but Kuroko came to mind.

Kuroko turned towards him. Midorima’s emerald green eyes zeroed in on the man’s every moment.

Kuroko merely shrugged. “I'm not sure but I feel Akashi-kun should be the one to decide. Besides…” he averted his eyes. “I’m not close enough with him to give a proper opinion.

Midorima blinked. He found himself in a white room, a blank canvass. He almost couldn’t process what he heard. “Hah? But aren’t you--”

\-- _the one that saved him? The one, he needed?_

The spillage of words protested inside his head but Midorima realized that they could never reach his lips.

“Eh? I’m what?” Kuroko blinked.

Midorima gritted his teeth. “Aren’t you--”

“Midorima-kun, I don’t know if you’re misunderstanding something or not but, I’m not very close to Akashi-kun. In fact, you’re much closer than I am. We may be roommates but, that by definition only suggests that we are living under the same roof. Nothing more. “Kuroko suddenly cut off.

Midorima stared. What? How...could that be true?

“Midorima-kun?” Kuroko called, snapping him out of the void. He found himself staring back at Kuroko’s face, brows furrowed with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“...No, it’s nothing.” Midorima muttered, turning away his eyes.

“I see. Well, we’ve gotten more than enough items so, should we get going?”

“...right.”

[=]

_“Why are you against this? The bird must eventually fly the coop. You in fact have already lived away from family for years. I don't see anything wrong with this."_

Why did Kuroko Tetsuya come to mind? Why did his face appear when Midorima found himself unable to answer this question?

That was...that was because--

\--he saw light.

Under the blinding stadium lights at the Winter Cup, he saw Seirin begin their relentless counterattack against Rakuzan as Akashi began to fall apart. That ever-firm back dwindled from its original height, those sharp eyes that could pierce one’s soul was losing its own.

Who was this person?

Someone so weak...someone certainly not Akashi.

Or, could it have been?

Akashi was, because of Kuroko, losing for the first time. He who has never lost was, because of loss, making that sort of expression.

Shocked by such a development, even though Midorima had wished for it himself, a vague thought shifted into his mind. If, Midorima had beaten him at basketball, in Shogi, would he have shown the same expression?

That one thought, triggered regret.

He was not ignorant. He knew what was going on during Teiko, what was happening to Akashi. Yet, all he ever did was to continue to look at himself while shooting hoops. It wasn’t as though he was just selfish of course. Well...not entirely so at the beginning anyways. It was just, he did not know what to say. Since it was Akashi, what could he have said? What should he have said to that put-together being that was able to solve any problem, even the ones Midorima couldn’t, with ease?

What should he say?

Was it to be long-winded? Some kind of inspirational speech? What did he have to say to take Akashi out of that closed-off realm? Of expectations, of perfection? Midorima did not know and that was exactly what had held him back for so long. He simply thought too much that even at that time at the stadium he was will unable to find the words to say. Yet, Kuroko did. So, so easily.

After the match, with hand outstretched to the red-haired teen, the one who had been Midorima’s closest friend, Kuroko said something Midorima couldn’t hear.

Yet, he knew those words, were the things he was desperately searching for.

The void in Akashi’s eyes had melted. Any hesitation, any sort of anguish had disappeared from his face. In its place, was a smile, a smile from the Akashi they had always known.

Midorima gritted his teeth. He was glad to see that Akashi was back yet...frustrated those words weren’t his own.

[=]

Midorima is in his hotel room, windows wide open as a breeze wafted across him. He sat in his chair, leaning his elbows on the desk as he continued to play a match of Shogi on his phone.

The opponent was tough but not as tough as Akashi. He quickly reached Outei and won the match in silence. There was no sense of victory. In fact, his mind was already far away, dwelling upon the words Kuroko had left him when they parted ways after shopping.

“...Midorima-kun, it’s unexpected but, you’ve changed a lot.”  said Kuroko, in response to something Midorima said that sounded “mature”. According to Midorima, he was always mature so it sounded nothing but malicious to him. In fact, Kuroko might’ve only said it to spite him but nevertheless, the words rang through his ears.

“Even if you’re saying that to spite me, I can only say: if I’ve changed, then that’s good. Sometimes we need change in order to improve ourselves, to meet our goals.”

“I see. Then, have you reached your goal?”

…

…

Has he?

He put his phone and looked at the window, the afternoon dusk streaked with scarlet-- a horizon he could never reach.

What has changed exactly?

[=]

Midorima Shintarou had changed. If it was him in the past, he would not have been able to boldly come up to Kuroko or try to consult him about anything related to...anything.

Kuroko smiled as he boiled the beans. He was glad that Midorima seemed to have overcome a lot of the difficulties he had with relying on others and Shuutoku definitely played a great role in that change. The man was still a bit awkward but considerably more direct than before. He was glad Midorima became more honest.

Still, even though he could smile at it now, at the time, he found the earnest man troublesome. Once again, Kuroko’s eyes darkened while staring at the pot. The beans bubbled up with the water.

 It was a feeling that was very unlike himself yet, he had acted upon it, dodging Midorima’s questions for as long as he could.

He...never expected himself to be so sly. Or, perhaps he had always been this way. There was just something uncomfortable about the idea of him coming to Kuroko for advice on Akashi.

After all, Midorima was the one Akashi called out that evening, the one Akashi made such soft expressions towards. Not him. Otherwise, Akashi would’ve already told him, consulted him, not about his plans, but his heart. His feelings towards his father, his family, his past that Kuroko has never even heard about.

“Kuroko, I’m home.” Akashi called from the door.

Kuroko quickly looked up from the pot. “Ah, welcome back Akashi-kun,” he greeted as the man walked into the kitchen with a smile, checking tonight’s menu.

“...Beans?” Akashi raised a brow. “I believe you said you didn’t like them.”

Kuroko blinked, staring at the little specks. “They contain essential amino acids. I thought perhaps, once in a while.”

Akashi didn’t look convinced. “Is that so? Tofu would’ve sufficed. That’s why I let you stop eating them remember?’

Kuroko flinched. “...Right.”

Akashi frowned, looking over his shoulder at Kuroko’s somewhat absent-minded figure. “You’re acting unusual today. Did something happen?” He said, folding his jacket over his office chair before reclining it and comfortably settling down.

Kuroko didn’t look back. “...No, nothing much.”

Akashi’s lips curled downwards in distaste. “No, something happened and you are merely being stubborn about it. Explain Kuroko. I would like to help you to overcome it.” He said. Although Akashi generally believed problems were to be be dispelled by oneself, there were many simple adjustments one didn’t need to bother fretting on their own.

Whatever clouded Kuroko’s day was one of these and dispelling it would surely make a more pleasant dinner table.

Yet, Kuroko did not accept his gesture in the least. “Even if that’s the case,” Kuroko began, “I would still dislike it if Akashi-kun decided to butt in.”

Akashi widened his eyes. So, he chose the option to settle it himself. His path was clear. Akashi had no reason to pry yet somehow, Kuroko's words grated coldly on his ears. “I see…” 

Even Kuroko did not expect himself to say that but he never bothered to correct himself.

In the end, there was an odd silence at the dinner table that evening.

[=]

“Oh my god…I can’t believe I broke my leg going rollerblading on the first date…” Shinohara Yuusuke croaked in embarrassment, hands clutching his face.

Visiting his classmate in the hospital, Kuroko entered with some flowers in hand.

“It’s alright Shinohara-kun. Accidents like these happen. Although you should be more careful about going so fast down a hill.” Kuroko said as he placed the flowers onto the empty vase by his bedside.

“Here’s a get-well present from the rest of the literature circle.” Kuroko said.

“Augh that’s lovely and all but...why’s one the flowers in a pot?!” He demanded, pointing to the orchid sitting ominously by the corner of his bed.

Kuroko nodded. “Ah yes, that is a personal gift from the president. He said, quote, ‘those with girlfriends should die’ and suggested you take a long vacation in the hospital,” he helpfully relayed.

“OI!! I don’t want that ill-will!! Get that thing away from me!!” Shinohara cried in distress.

“It’s alright Shinohara-kun. Perhaps speaking of a bad event will jinx it and you’ll get out of the hospital sooner.” Kuroko smiled.

“Nope, I only think that applies to good things!!” Shinohara cried but before even more banter could ensue, a shout came from the hall.

“Shut up Satsuki, don’t make me repeat myself!” A man’s voice spat harshly, voice riveting across the hall.

“Eh?! But-- Dai-chan!” A woman’s voice cried in protest, clearly distressed.

“I want to be alone right now got it?!”

Kuroko and Shinohara both froze at the loud argument. Neither reacted well to sudden and loud noise. Yet, curious as they were, the two got up from their positions, Shinohara equipping their crutch as they peered into the hall.

Kuroko almost lost his breath.

“Eh?! Isn’t that… Aomine Daiki…? The J-league basketball player?!” Shinohara gasped.

Kuroko didn’t even listen. He only uttered, “why...is Aomine-kun...in a wheelchair?”

His body naturally moved past the doorway, straight into the hall.

By then however, Aomine had already slammed the door of his own room at Momoi’s face.

The pink-haired girl--no woman, that Kuroko once knew, stood there, with tears in her eyes.

“Momoi-san?” he called out as the woman turned her head in shock.

“T-tetsu...kun?”

Behind him, Shinohara gaped. Eh? Why was he so casually talking to such a hot babe?!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I was away on vacation so sorry for the slow update! This was a very difficult chapter to write so I hope it turned out well! Any feedback would be just awesome! Thank you so much!!!


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